


The Ho Chi Minh Paper Trail

by chapa3



Series: Roanapur Rockslide [3]
Category: Black Lagoon (Anime & Manga)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 193,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapa3/pseuds/chapa3
Summary: The follow-up to 'Glass Rocks'. Martin Zappala and Fred Viapiano, business associates of Luca Cavalcanti, arrive at the home of Black Lagoon Company with reconciliation and a job. After a body is found, Black Lagoon Company becomes embroiled in a violent political game between the owner of an illegal recycling racket, a Vietnamese media mogul, and the Tổng Cục 2.
Relationships: Rebecca "Revy" Lee/Okajima "Rock" Rokuro
Series: Roanapur Rockslide [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202744
Comments: 2





	1. World's Greatest Grandpa

AN: This is the third in the series of Black Lagoon stories that I have written. First is "The Calabrian Gambit". Second is "Glass Rocks". I recommend reading those two stories in order before reading this one, for then this story would make more sense. Also, I did realize for so many years that I never published The Ho Chi Minh Paper Trail on AO3, until now. Regardless, enjoy, and have fun reading.

* * *

Revy, dressed in her usual tank top and shorts attire, points a Cutlass at Rock's head, him dressed in his black and white plaid dress shirt and black dress pants. "Alright Rocky-boy, let's say I'm trying to kidnap you, and I am holding this gun at your head. What did I say that you should do?" The two are inside Revy's room, her bed moved further into the wall to make space.

"You emptied the bullets, right?" Rock asks, slightly concerned. Revy rolls her eyes and says "Yes, I'm not a fucking idiot! And the bullet in the chamber is emptied, too. Ease the fuck up." Rock says "Alright" and stares at the barrel, his hands raised. In a quick motion, he puts his right leg back a step and grabs onto the barrel with two hands, arcing the gun up to a 45 degree angle. He uses his step back to extend his arms. He then turns his back to Revy, hands still on the gun. Keeping the barrel pointed away from him, Rock grabs the slide of the Cutlass and pulls it back, rendering the gun useless had it had any bullets. Rock then pries the gun out of Revy's hands and tosses it onto the bed.

"Good, that's Israeli Martial Arts, Krav Maga. Well, the kind that actually matters shit in our line of work. First, you keep the end of the gun's barrel as far the fuck away from you as possible, always keep it from being pointed at you. The gun has a range where a bullet can hit. GET the fuck out of the range! Then, you fuck with the mechanism of the gun, like pulling and holding the slide back or keeping the hammer from hitting the firing pin. Each gun is unique, like shotguns and rifles have different ways to fuck with them. Plus, some bullets can fracture and spread. That's why it's called a range and not a straight line. If you can't fuck with the mechanism, try to arc the gun into the sky or the ground and try to pull the trigger yourself so you could empty the clip. DON'T just go for the face and eyes without thinking, cause that usually just pisses them off, and they got a gun, so yeah. If you need to strike them, stay the fuck out the range. If you hit them while you are still in the range, the fucker you hit will just fall on the ground. The fucker will still have a gun pointed at you, and will just shoot your sorry ass anyway. My recommendation…go for the crotch or the neck, once and hard, and if needed, run the fuck away," Revy lectures Rock on a lesson in Krav Maga.

"I get it, makes sense. A lot, actually. It's textbook Sun Tzu. First you make yourself invincible to defeat, then you attack the enemy's vulnerabilities," Rock says, nodding to himself. Revy stretches her right shoulder and says "The only reason you would stick a gun into someone's face is if you don't expect them to be ballsy enough to pry it out of your hands. Try not to make a habit of it, keep the gun at a distance from anyone's arms. If they grab it, then you become the dipshit without a gun." "Like back at the market?" Rock blurts out, chucking. "Shut up," Revy says, smiling. Revy snaps her fingers and says "Alright, grab the Cutlass. I'll show you what not to do in a face-to-face situation like this."

Rock grabs Revy's Cutlass and approaches her. She looks at Rock and says "Alright, Rock. You point the gun at my head. Like I did to you." Rock points the Cutlass at Revy's head. Revy widens her legs without taking a step back and pulls the gun upward, at a 45 degree angle. She says "Alright Rock, there are at least 3 ways where you could kill me in this position. Show a few."

Rock takes a step back and pulls on the Cutlass, dragging Revy with him. He gets a clear shot at the top of Revy's head. "That's one, and probably the most common way that the disarm attempt goes to shit. The reason why it went to shit was because my feet are planted in an unstable position. The reason I got shot was because I got pulled back into the range. Again, stay the fuck out of the range. Try to find a couple more ways to settle this," Revy lectures.

Rock and Revy return to their original positions, with Rock pointing a gun at Revy's head. Revy grabs the Cutlass and pulls it up at a 45 degree angle, yet again. Rock smirks and playfully kicks at the air under Revy's exposed groin. Revy laughs and says "Yea Rock, I appreciate it if you don't kick me there. Thanks."

The two return to their positions as Revy says "Alright, one more way." Rock points the Cutlass at Revy's head a third time. Revy pulls the gun up as she has done twice before. Rock thinks for a few seconds, and then takes a step forward. He uses his slight height advantage to push Revy backwards. Revy loses her balance and falls on the ground, with Rock landing head first on her breasts. "Well, you're supposed to stay on your feet, but I think you get the idea," Revy mutters as Rock raises his head.

"I never knew combat training could be a turn on," Rock mutters, smirking at Revy. Revy smirks as well and says "Save it for the after-hours, Rocky-boy." Suddenly, a knock is heard at the door, causing Rock and Revy to quickly and nervously climb back up. "Rock? You in there? Dutch needs your opinion on something," Benny yells out. Rock approaches the door and opens it, Cutlass in his hands. He waves the Cutlass at Benny and says "Combat training. Israeli, Revy is showing me." Benny, dressed in his usual Hawaiian shirt and beige pants attire, says jokingly "Ha, you'll be ready for aliyah in no time."

Rock raises his eyebrows and says "What is aliyah?" Benny quickly replies "It's immigration to Israel for Jews." Rock blinks and says "So what would you call immigration to place like here?" Benny laughs and says "My grandparents would probably call it 'meshugenism'. Anyway, Dutch needs some input on some purchases." Rock hands Revy her Cutlass and steps into the living room of the studio.

Dutch is seated on the sofa, dressed in a white, sleeveless shirt and black sweat pants, his back facing the kitchen. On the coffee table is a set of papers and a black pen, along with an opened notebook. Rock seats himself next to Dutch and asks "What you need, Dutch?" Dutch pulls the notebook closer and says "I've been thinking about replacing the Gepard sniper rifle on the Lagoon with something more automatic, like an M60." Revy interjects and says "Woah, an M60? I'm game for that."

Dutch ignores Revy and asks Rock "What do you think? Since Eda has proven to be untrustworthy, we have been getting our ammunition from Praiyachat. Trouble is, he doesn't have anything like an M60 in stock. I contacted a couple of more serious vendors. Reynolds told me that he could get us one for $20,000, with a bipod. The catch is that this particular M60 is from the Vietnam War era, so it isn't exactly new. I know another vendor that works in Manila, Philippines, near Tondo. She can get us a M60 that's only around five years old, but the price is $30,000."

Revy blurts out "20 grand for a 40 year old machine gun? The fuck is up with that?" Dutch replies "Thailand got a lot of surplus American guns with the end of the Vietnam War, but the M60 dried up pretty quickly. Sure, I can get them at around 10 grand, new, but they will be semi-auto. Fully auto M60s have been banned from production in America for over a decade already, and it's hard to get them smuggled off military bases. Reynolds and my contact in Manila know this, which is why they can price gouge us."

"Will the installation for the M60 be same as with the Gepard?" Rock inquires. Dutch shakes his head and says "There is no installation. All that's needed is a bipod for convenience." "How much was the Gepard when you bought it? When did you buy it?" Rock inquires further. Dutch thinks for a few seconds. After a small pause, he says "I remember that I bought it in 1992, so give it around…5 and half years. I bought the Gepard new, if you are wondering. As for how much…I think it was for $10,000."

Rock grabs the notebook and a pen, and after a while, he starts laughing, saying "If someone told me 5 years ago that I will have to calculate the salvage value of an anti-material sniper rifle, I would tell them to go home and sober up." He prepares to start writing, pauses, and then turns to Dutch, asking "How many times was the rifle actually fired? Like in total?" Dutch thinks for a minute, rubbing his chin. He answers "No more than a few dozen times. To be honest, I am not exactly sure why we even have it on board."

Rock scribbles onto the notebook and says "So given that it hasn't really been used much, and has been kept in a decent environment, I would say that you could probably get 7 to 8 grand on the rifle. I am assuming that these anti-material rifles are hard to come by. That's a big dent in the price, but the cost is still high. Do we have enough money put away to cover the remainder? Money not used for food, rent, gas, the rest?"

Dutch grabs the notebook and looks over various numbers and tables. He says "Yes for both purchases, but money will become extremely tight if we get the M60 from Manila." Rock asks Dutch "What if we buy the M60 from Reynolds, and then take it apart. We single out the parts in poor quality, sell them for scrap, and then purchase brand new ones from Praiyachat. Then we put the gun back together." Dutch sighs and says "We could do that…I'll think about it then. Got to tell my contact in Manila that she doesn't need to hold on to the M60 anymore. Thanks."

Suddenly, two knocks emulate from the door entrance. This is followed by two more knocks as Dutch gets off the sofa. Peering through the eyehole with his Smith and Wesson Model 629, he slowly opens the door. Suddenly, two men step into the studio, one dressed in a light green golf jacket, light brown track pants, and black tennis shoes, the other dressed in a yellow t-shirt that says with black lettering 'Longshoreman of the Month, April. Fraser River Port Authority', a pair of old, blue jeans, and sneakers that appear to have recently had mud scrubbed off of them.

The man in the golf jacket, Freddy Viapiano, waves at Black Lagoon Company and says "Heyo." The man in the yellow t-shirt, Martin Zappala, surveys the studio and says "Not a bad place you got here."

The two move toward the sofa opposite of the one that Rock is seated on. They both sit down, Viapiano on the left, Zappala on the right. Benny brews himself coffee in the kitchen as Revy stands next to the mounted telephone, her arms crossed. Dutch seats himself on the sofa opposite the two 'Ndrangheta mobsters as Rock climbs off the sofa and stands behind Dutch. Dutch holsters his revolver and asks "Name's Dutch. You know who we are, right? Have a job for us?"

Viapiano slightly smiles and says "Yea, we know who you are. Yesterday we met with one of Roanapur's organizations for the sake of burying the hatchet, and today we are here to do the same. My name is Freddy Viapiano, and this guy here is a business partner of mine…Martin Zappala. You worked with one of our other former associates…Luca Cavalcanti."

Rock's eyes twitch as Revy yells out "ROCK! LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR NOW!" Revy reaches under Rock's shirt and grabs his M9, aiming the M9 at Viapiano and Zappala as Rock locks the door. She screams out, furious "WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, YOU PSYCHO COCKSUCKERS, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" Viapiano laughs and says "Jesus fucking Christ, I got a better reception from the Russian broad, and that's saying something. It seems like every piece of tail here is menstruating 24/7 in this city."

"THE FUCK YOU JUST SAID?" Revy yells out as Dutch darts an extremely dirty look at Revy. Breathing heavily and enraged, she ultimately capitulates, handing back Rock's M9. She heads toward her room to retrieve her Cutlasses as Viapiano says to Dutch in English and Italian "Thank you. I can't exactly say that I was expecting a good reception, given the kind of shit that Luca laid on everyone's doorstep, that squilibrato (deranged) fuck. Just let it be on the record that we have no ill will toward you for killing Luca, and that you actually done us a favor. Look, I ain't gonna pretend like you owe us anything, and I also ain't gonna pretend like we actually miss the guy."

Revy returns with her Cutlasses on her shoulder holsters, both weapons fully loaded. She looks at Viapiano and says "That so?" Viapiano nods and says "That fucking so. The cocksucker would never have gotten in had his pops not been the fucking legend that he was back in NYC. Look, he was a smart guy, but guy's brain was ugatz (shit) from day one. When he had to swear on the Bible for his initiation, the baccalà (idiot) tried to write on it 'by Luca Cavalcanti'. Fucking serious, had he not been a Cavalcanti, the stronzo (son of a bitch) would have been clipped on the spot. Woulda saved all of us the fucking headache!"

Zappala turns to Viapiano and says "Take it easy, Freddy. You're going to work up a fucking stroke!" Viapiano glares at Zappala and says "Stroke? I hope that cocksucker is enjoying a never ending stroke in Satan's garage or shit. Not only did he sell off all that coke to a fucking government agent to get information for his sick games, which, might I remind you, is not exactly something that you could kick up to upper management…he also gave us a bad fucking name! Motherfucker!"

Viapiano turns to Dutch and says "Look, we try not to employ psychos…the Tommy DeSimones…the Luca Cavalcantis…we try to avoid that. People like that are bad business. They make us look bad and bring heat on us. And lady, Revy right? Had you not whacked Luca, we would have done it ourselves, so don't make us look like the bad guys here. Sfacime (dickhead)! Look I tell ya, I fucking tell ya, I never seen that guy with a broad. Like he thinks that he is above sex. How the fuck can you trust a guy that thinks that he is better than fucking? Huh, how about that? And the Satanic shit that he did, all the serial killer bullshit? Fuck, the cocksucker was a disgrace to good Italians and a fucking disgrace to good Catholics!"

Dutch smiles and says "It's alright, you proved your point." Viapiano nods and says "Hey, right now, we're the guests. It's with your grace that we are seated here, as guests in your castle. And in light of recent and hopefully nonrecurring humiliations, I consider it a pleasure to work with men, err…and women, that are committed to making their wallets fatter, and my wallet fatter." Dutch smiles and turns to Revy, saying "Go get Mr. Viapiano a coffee."

Revy glares at Dutch with an angry look, to which Dutch retorts by saying in a slightly annoyed tone "Revy, they are our guests…" Benny yells out "I got enough for a lot of cups. Does anyone else want a coffee?" Zappala yells out "Hey, got any beer?" "Yeah, Heineken," Benny replies. "Good taste, I'll have one," Zappala replies, matter-of-factly.

Revy groans and props a cup of coffee and a can of Heineken on the coffee table. "Grazie, missy," Viapiano says. "Thanks," Zappala says, opening the can of beer. He takes a large gulp of cold beer as Viapiano blows on his coffee. Viapiano takes a sip of coffee and laughs, saying "Marone (Madonna), I just had a Vietnam War flashback to Yaletown in '95, back in Vancouver. I was visiting Luca's apartment there to talk business, and as he swings the door open, the pezzo di merda (piece of shit) was covered in blood, wearing this apron. Like the tips of his hair were fucking soaked. He had these eyes, like he was possessed by fucking Satan himself. I was half expecting a headless goat to run out the door. Like it was some Charles Manson cult shit! Marone, I couldn't fucking eat that day. I just said 'See ya tomorrow' and ran straight to the bar. Had to down five beers before I could block that fucking sight out of my head! Jesus!"

Rock and Revy listen to the conversation, picking up every single detail. Rock scratches his back, his fingers running across the tape on his back. Dutch leans back on the sofa and says "That's all interesting, Mr. Viapiano, but I can tell that you came here with more than an olive branch. If you wish to hire us, we are more than willing to listen to any offers." Martin Zappala interjects and says "Yeah, down to business. Basically, to cut a long story short, we need your entire crew, and your ship, to help haul a small barge into deep waters for waste 'disposal'." He puts extra emphasis on the word 'disposal'. Dutch glares at Martin Zappala and asks "Are you hiring us to dump bodies?" Zappala laughs and says "No, if that was the case, I'd put the emphasis on the word 'waste' in that particular fucking sentence. Nah, basically, we have a plant in elsewheres, and that plant is the main operation for us right now. Now later, we gonna get other things coming in, but this is our cash cow at the moment."

Dutch glares at Zappala in confusion and asks "What the hell are you talking about?" Zappala leans forward and says "Recycled waste dumping. Those stupid fucks in the Canadian government give businesses over there the incentive to take back used products for the sake of recycling, by giving them subsidies. You know, like tax breaks and money and shit. Some of those same businesses would take a step further and charge people small fees when they return their broken laptops and shit. Course, you can't recycle certain products, cause you just can't. Think those big shot corporations making those fancy cell phones are going to use composite plastic that would cause half the digits on the phone to not work? Fucking think again! We offer to take their 'recycled' trash off their hands for a fee, then we ship the shit out of Vancouver and send it to our plant here in Southeast Asia. We were going to use China, but the fucking Triads over there got that racket under their vice grip. Anyway, we hire people to break the shit down and extract the good stuff…gold, copper, all that shit. Then we dump the leftover garbage someplace where no one gives a shit about it. It's the best fucking scam on God's green Earth!"

Dutch listens on in interest. Nodding, he says "So you need help with the dumping part of the scam?" Zappala nods and says "We are stretched thin and short on boats. Manpower is the issue right now, more than anything. Everything and everyone is focused on the transport from Vancouver and on the actual plant management." Dutch nods and asks "Where is the plant?" Zappala takes a gulp of Heineken and says "Rạch Giá, well close to the city. Southern Vietnam. Like the asshair of the country." The word 'Vietnam' resonates in Dutch's head. Hiding his feelings, Dutch asks "Where do you want us to dump the garbage?" Zappala thinks for a second, and then answers "Someplace where it won't bother anyone, so there won't be any red flags. I'm thinking of where the Gulf of Thailand ends and the South China Sea begins."

Dutch nods a few times, leaning back on the sofa. After a pause, he asks the magic question "How much for the job?" Viapiano jumps in and says "Yeah, this is a bit more of an example of a salary then a commission. About that grand that we owe for each job, I'm thinking that maybe we could work something out." Dutch leans forward and asks "Well, how many trips do you need us to do?" Zappala interjects, saying "Twice a week. Tuesday and Friday. At least for the next two weeks. The barge is small and the waste is pilling so high, it could tip the fucking Hoover Dam. Now, you handle the expenses, fuel and all that. I'm thinking of something around…f…five hundred a trip?"

Dutch bursts out laughing, saying "$500 a trip? What's the distance from Roanapur to Rạch Giá, and from there to the dumpsite?" Zappala thinks for a minute, and says "I'd say around 500 miles." Dutch sighs and says "So around 1,000 miles, round trip. Rock, how much is the price of gasoline?" Rock answers "It's around $1.30 a gallon last time I checked." Viapiano looks up and says "Hey, you that Japanese guy, right?" "Yeah, name is Rock," Rock replies. Dutch mutters "So…the ship runs with 20 MPG. That's 50 gallons, or $53 spent on gas. Which means that we make around $447 per drop-off. Let's round to $448 to make it easy to divide. That means that each of us makes $112 a job. You got to do better than that, Mr. Zappala. We are putting our lives on the line against pirates and local navies."

Zappala looks at Viapiano, who shrugs. Zappala then grabs his Heineken and takes another sip. After a pause, he says "A grand a trip." Rock interjects, saying "Then that means that we only make $237 per trip. We need to worry about replenishing ammunition, paying rent…buying stuff to eat." Zappala takes a deep breath and says "2 grand per trip. You will make around somewhere…four, $486 with a change, each. I think that's fair. I ain't going higher."

Dutch replies, saying "It's not $486 per person given costs for food and such, but I think that's fair as well. Alright Mr. Zappala and Mr. Viapiano, we have a deal." Dutch extends his right hand, shaking Zappala's cold and wet right hand. Dutch then shakes hands with Viapiano. Zappala mutters "It's December 30 right now. We'll start on Friday. That alright?" Dutch nods and says "Yea, it's alright."

Viapiano blurts out, asking Dutch "Hey, Dutch. You know where we could find a place that makes espresso here?" Zappala laughs and rolls his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment. Dutch shakes his head and says "You could get a machine to do it for you, but there aren't really any cafes here for espresso." Zappala turns to Viapiano and says "I told you, it's fucking Thailand. We ain't in Vancouver anymore, and especially not in your old town Soverato." Viapiano smiles and says "At least the beach here reminds me a little of Soverato. Fuck, I should go visit home in a few weeks."

Revy nudges Rock's right shoulder and says "Wanna head out?" Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "Sure." Revy turns to Zappala and Viapiano and says "See ya, Zappala. See ya Freddy V.P." Viapiano quickly jerks left, facing Zappala, and says "I told ya someone was gonna call me that! 20 bucks, Marty, you owe me." Zappala rolls his eyes and says "Freddy, the bet was if someone would call you Freddy V.I.P." Viapiano snaps his fingers and signals with his right hand, saying "$20, Marty. Don't make me pull rank over here!"

As Zappala fishes out a $20 bill, Rock and Revy exit the studio. Revy turns to Rock as Rock closes the door, saying "You packing? M9 has a full clip, right?" Rock nods as Revy walks toward the garage. The two step into the Town Car, with Revy in the driver seat and Rock seated right next to her. "Where are we going, Revy?" Rock inquires.

Revy blinks and says "Leroy, you remember Leroy? The guy that gave us the information on the psycho maid back when she came back, and the guy that gave us info on the 'Ndrangheta. He has a job for us, something outside Black Lagoon Company. Said there is a lot of money in it. You up for it?" Rock pauses for a second, grimaces, shrugs, and says "Sure, I could use the cash."

Revy turns the engine on and drives out of the garage and onto an alleyway. Rock exits the car and approaches the garage. He lowers the garage door and exits through the side entrance, locking the side entrance. Rock then returns to his original seat in the Town Car as the two drive off.

As Revy passes an intersection, Rock asks "So, you believe their story? Those two Italian mobsters?" Revy navigates around a truck that has been left in double parking and says "I never would trust a word that comes out of the mouths of those fucks, but I can tell that they are just here to make a buck and make it fast. The kind that Roanapur loves to attract. I don't think that they will be a problem unless money gets involved." Rock fishes out a pack of Natural American Spirit and says "I've been thinking the same, as well. Viapiano does seem a bit high strung, though. Zappala…all I can tell is that he must have smoked four packs a day to get a voice as raspy as that." Revy laughs and says "Yeah, his voice is a little fucking grating on the ears."

Rock holds a cigarette in his mouth and retrieves a lighter. He lights the cigarette and takes a drag. Rock then motions the pack of cigarettes at Revy. Revy nods, stops in front of a red light, and fishes out a cigarette from Rock's pack. Rock extends his lighter over to her and lights her cigarette, from which she takes a drag. The light turns green as Revy hits the gas pedal and accelerates past the intersection. Taking another drag, Revy asks "So Rock, about you and the detox?" Rock sighs and says "At this point, it's nothing more annoying than a nicotine craving. I think I got off lucky, though. I am not going to do that again."

Revy nods and lowers the driver side window. Rock lowers the nearby window as well as Revy enters the Red Light District of Roanapur. Bars, night clubs, and restaurants pass by, too early to bustle with activity. Rock looks at the clock on the Town Car, reading that it's 4:11 P.M. Revy turns right on an intersection and enters a vacant lot, long abandoned. Inside the lot, a grayish blue Ford Fairmont 4-door sedan is parked.

Revy drives up to the Ford Fairmont, the cars facing opposite directions as Revy and Leroy stare at each other face-to-face. Leroy is wearing a beige button shirt and a gold chain on his neck. Revy shrugs her shoulders, cigarette in her hand, and says "What's with all the secrecy? We could have just driven up to your office." Leroy taps against the nearby car door and says "I'm fumigating my place and my temporary apartment is on the other side of Roanapur. I was in the area and wanted to save you a trip." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Alright, what you got for us?"

Leroy points his right index finger into the air and says "Wait, first. I need your promise that you are taking the job." Revy waves her arms around in confusion and asks "The fuck? Are we going to mess with anyone important? Balalaika, Chang? What is this?" Leroy shakes his head and says "No, nobody important. Just a bunch of independents. Thing is, I paid for this information, and I got to protect my investment."

Revy looks towards Rock, waiting for a response from him. Rock realizes this and slowly nods. Revy turns back to Leroy and says "Alright, but you better not be screwing with us. If this is involving anyone important, all bets are off." Leroy glares at Revy with an annoyed smile and says "Relax. Calm down. Here, take this." Leroy extends a small folder over to Revy, the folder containing a single sheet of paper. As Revy opens the folder, Leroy says "This trio of Indians has been sticking up pretty much anything all across Southeast Asia. They hit a liquor store in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, a bank in Singapore, pulled off a couple of robberies in Palembang, Indonesia. Then they moved over to Jakarta, Indonesia and robbed a couple of stores there. You'd think they'd quit while they're ahead, but no. They go back up the Java Sea and hit up Kuching, Malaysia. They took down an armored car, like I'm talking serious money. Now they are here in Roanapur to count their winnings. I want you to take the money and we all get a cut."

As Revy tosses the folder away and pockets the sheet of paper, Leroy continues "This gang is run by this former drug dealer that used to work for D-Company in Bangalore. D-Company, as in Indian Mafia. His name is Javare. Javare doesn't work with D-Company anymore, so no worries from them. He recruited his girlfriend, also from Bangalore, I think her name is Meghana. The two then recruited another friend, some ex-cop from Jaipur named Sudhir. Sudhir has a shotgun, as reported in the robberies, so watch out."

"The fuck do you know all this?" Revy inquires, raising her eyebrows. Leroy smiles and says "I'm an information broker. It's my job." Revy laughs and says "Horseshit! You tell us what's what or we are walking. I am not going to stick my face into a hornet's nest." Leroy groans and arcs his head back, digging his back into his seating. "FINE! ALRIGHT! There was a fourth guy, an outsider. Was hired by the group, he was the explosives guy. They double crossed him and left him for dead. He didn't die so easily, and so he sold me the information on them for payback. He doesn't want any of the money, his payoff was when he sold me the info. He just wants the thieves dead. Trust me, the Indian Mafia doesn't care about these fuckers, no one does."

Revy nods to herself and says "Alright, I'm trusting you, but only because your word is your job. Don't fuck with us, because you got a reputation to protect. How are we splitting the money?" Leroy leans forward and says "I get 65, you two get 35." "Go fuck yourself," Revy quickly replies. Leroy waves his hands over the driver side car door and says "I'm taking a financial risk here." Revy laughs and says "Well we are taking a physical fucking risk here, so come back to us when you are making sense."

"60/40, you two both get 20 percent," Leroy retorts as he and Revy enter an auction of sorts. "40/60, you get 40, we both get 30," Revy counters with her own offer. Leroy rolls his eyes and says "I need to fucking recoup my expenses, Revy." Revy stares blankly at Leroy, unyielding. Leroy shakes his head and says "50/50, you both get 25. Now Revy, remember…you owe me for the information on Roberta, alright. I still haven't forgotten on how you held me at gunpoint."

Revy seethes and says "Fine…but this better be a serious haul, Leroy." Leroy laughs and says "I don't know why you are splitting even with Rock over there. 25 percent for looking pretty seems like a free ride to me." Rock pulls out his M9 and extends it past Revy, out of the window. "Bang!" Rock yells out as Leroy flinches and ducks under his car. Revy laughs hysterically as Leroy yells "I didn't see that coming!" Rock holsters his M9 as Revy says "Alright, be at your temporary office and stay there. We'll be done in a couple of hours, tops." Revy drives off as Leroy recovers from his shock.

"So, are we going to rob the thieves first?" Rock inquires, slightly nervous. He is slowly coming to grips with the thought of entering a genuine shootout, instead of simply hiding as bullets zip by. Revy shakes her head and says "This isn't something Dutch authorized, so if Leroy is actually tricking us into attacking someone important, I rather not get noticed. You got money? I'm going to stop the car near the market. You go hit some stores, buy me a hoodie, some new pants, gloves, and a ski mask. Not in the same fucking store. I'll do the same for you. I'm a small. I'm guessing that you're a medium?" Rock sighs and nods "Yeah, I'm a medium." Revy nods and says "Good, the ski mask and the gloves are important. Do not fucking forget either of them!"

Suddenly, Revy's cell phone vibrates. She puts the car in double parking, spots the caller ID, and answers the phone, saying "Yeah Dutch?"

Inside in Black Lagoon Company studio, Dutch, still dressed in his earlier clothes, says on the telephone "Revy, we got to talk." Revy leans back in her seat and says "What about?" Dutch sighs and says "It's about your immaturity and your behavior in front of clients. Now I know that Cavalcanti was a scumbag, but Viapiano and Zappala are our clients and I really, REALLY appreciate it if you don't threaten to KILL OUR CLIENTS!" Revy groans in anger in response to a rare burst of emotion from Dutch. Rolling her eyes and more focused on present business, she says "Look…fucking whatever alright? Dutch…fine. I'm sorry, I got fucking carried away." Rock looks on in surprise as Revy apologizes for her actions. Dutch is not amused, however, yelling "I don't care if you are sorry! Just don't let it happen again! Bye!" Dutch hangs up the phone as Revy grinds her teeth in rage.

"I never thought I'd hear you apologize for something like that," Rock mutters. Revy glares at Rock and says "I wouldn't have if there wasn't fucking money to be made, alright? Fuck Dutch, I got bigger things to think about!" She switches the car to drive and speeds onward, heading toward the market. After a while of driving, the two arrive at a commercial district. Revy parks the car and says "Remember, not in the same store. You get for me, I get for you." Rock nods as the two head their separate ways.

Revy drives the Town Car out of the commercial district. Passing an intersection, she spots an alleyway and drives into it. Turning to Rock, she says "Alright, what you got for me?" The two exchange the clothes that they purchased and proceed to strip down into their underwear. Revy, keeping her black tank top but removing her shoulder holsters, glares at Rock. Holding the grey hoodie that Rock purchased for her, she glares with an incredulous look and says "'World's Greatest Grandpa'? Are you fucking joking?" Rock laughs and says "It was the cheapest one they had." Revy chuckles and puts the grey hoodie on, the words 'World's Greatest Grandpa' in the middle of the hoodie, in blue lettering. She puts on a pair of black sweat pants that Rock also purchased for her. Rock, in turn, puts on a pair of red track pants and a green hoodie that says 'Muay Thai' in both Thai and English white lettering. Revy places her two Cutlasses in her hoodie's pockets, one pistol in each pocket, as Rock places his M9 in his right side hoodie pocket.

The two dump their street clothes and Revy's shoulder holsters onto the backseat, the ski masks and gloves on each other's laps. Revy turns on the radio, the radio cutting to the beginning of "Benzaiten" by Japanese 70s progressive rock musician Osamu Kitajima. "What's this?" Revy asks, curious. Rock nervously laughs and says "It's Thailand's Japanese radio station. They usually play 70s rock. Psychedelic, progressive, and others." Revy raises her eyebrow and asks "The Japanese had 70s rock musicians? Like Hendrix and The Doors?" Rock laughs and says "Almost every country that ever had a U.S. Military Base on it during the 70s, had 70s style rock music, in some shape or form. Soldiers would bring it from the base, and then people catch interest, and then it becomes widespread."

Revy nods to herself, saying "Interesting." She sets the car to drive and slowly maneuvers the Town Car out of the alleyway. The Town Car returns to the main road and continues onto its ultimate destination.

Parking near an apartment complex, Revy grabs her ski mask and set of gloves and stuffs them in her pockets. Rock does the same, stuffing both the ski mask and the gloves into the empty pocket. Revy then turns to Rock and says "Apartment 25, second floor. You need to piss or shit, now's the time to say so. Smoke?" Rock shakes his head and says, nervously "I'm good…I'm good." A sense of dread and anxiety fills up Rock's chest as he comes to terms with what will soon transpire. He exits the car, hood over his head, and slams the door. Revy exits the car afterwards, hood also over her head, and slams her door shut, locking the Town Car. While walking toward the entrance, he mumbles quietly "They are scum and would do the same to me. They are scum and would do the same to me."

The two hurry toward the entrance of a large, 6 floor brick apartment. Passing through the entrance, Rock spots a flight of stairs and approaches it. "Gloves and mask, now," Revy whispers as Rock puts on the gloves. Revy does the same as well as Rock struggles to put his ski mask on. Revy pulls her ski mask over her face, the ends of her hair sticking out from under the ski mask. She grabs Rock's ski mask and forcefully pulls it over his head. "You okay Rock?" she mutters.

Rock nervously chuckles and whispers "In about 10 minutes, either we'll be dead or everyone in that apartment will be." He heads up the flight of stairs, his hands shaking as he pulls his M9 out of his pocket. Revy draws both of her Cutlasses as Rock takes his first step onto the second floor. His heartbeat is so fast that his heart might just burst out of his chest. Rock spots apartment 25 and slowly approaches it, M9 gripped tightly in his right hand. He mumbles once more "They are scum and would do the same to me. They are scum and would do the same to me." Rock stands to the left of the door, his back pressed against the wall. Loud music is played inside the apartment as Revy approaches the door. She presses her back against the wall, to the right of the apartment. She whispers "Rock…you good?" Rock quietly laughs and nervously whispers "You know, I actually could go for meth right now."

Revy glares at Rock and says "What?" Rock takes a deep breath and whispers "How are you not nervous, Revy?" Revy whispers back "I am fucking nervous, but I shoved it to the back of my head. What's wrong with you?" Rock hyperventilates and whispers "Nothing's wrong, this is just something I haven't done before. I'm fucking nervous." Revy snarls and whispers "Rock, we are attracting too much fucking attention. Now or never." His breathing heavy and his hands shaking, he attempts to work up a rage. Rock whispers back "I fucking know, Revy. Fuck…shit, shit. Oh fuck." Revy rolls her eyes and whispers "Rock, stay here, I got this covered. You'll get your 25%, just don't go in. You're too fucking nervous and will get yourself killed." Revy's words were the spark that Rock needed, as his eyes twitch and his teeth grind against each other. He whispers in a slightly raised tone "Revy, get the fucking door." "You're at the Rubicon, Rock. Moment of truth," Revy whispers back, surveying the hallway of the apartment complex.

"Fucking door, now," Rock blurts out as Revy turns toward the door and kicks it open. Inside, a topless dark-skinned Indian woman with long, black hair, dressed in jeans and black sandals, is in the midst of snorting a mountain of cocaine propped on a table, a rolled up piece of paper money stuck in her left nostril. Behind her, resting on a wall, is a slightly lighter skinned Indian man in brown sandals, black track pants, and a sleeveless white shirt, sporting a thick handle bar moustache, chin stubble, and wavy black hair, watching on television a music clip of the Kannada song "Neeve Nanna" from the Kannada film "Dance Raja Dance."

At the moment that Revy knocks the door down, Rock jumps into the doorway and aims his M9 at the Indian man in the white shirt. His anxiety immediately replaced with an overload of adrenaline, Rock pulls the trigger, firing a bullet that harmlessly strikes the wall, inches away from the Indian man's head. The Indian man ducks and climbs into a hallway to the right as the Indian woman, Meghana, yells "SULE MAGA (Son of a bitch)!" in Kannada. She grabs a Smith and Wesson Model 39, the powder cocaine covering the black metal of the gun, and prepares to aim at Rock and Revy.

" _DANCE DANCE! RAJA DANCE! DANCE DANCE! RAJA DANCE!"_ the extremely loud music from the television drills deep into Rock's and Revy' heads.

Rock quickly adjusts his aim to Meghana and fires a bullet, striking her in her right shoulder. Yelling in pain, she fires a shot, missing a foot above Rock's head as he flinches out of reflex. Revy jumps into the apartment and fires two shots from the Cutlass in her right hand, followed by a third shot from the Cutlass in her left hand. The first shot grazes Meghana's left ear, the second shot hits Meghana in her stomach, and the third bullet strikes her left lung. She falls backwards, flipping the table over. Powder cocaine engulfs the living room of the apartment, covering Rock and Revy. Meghana climbs onto her left shoulder, coughs out blood, and tries to raise her Smith and Wesson at Revy, who finishes her off with a bullet to her heart. Meghana slumps dead, money still in her nostril, as Rock shuts the door behind him.

The powder cocaine starts to slowly trek down the ski masks and into Rock's and Revy's nostrils. "My face is becoming numb!" Rock exclaims, hugging the wall, M9 in his hands. Suddenly, a man in a nearby room exclaims in Kannada "Meghana? Meghana! Ninna amma na keya (fuck your mother)!" A man in a separate room exclaims in English and Hindi "Javare! Two gunmen! Maim bandukeh (I have the shotgun)!" Javare yells out in response to Sudhir's declaration, saying "Okay! Okay!"

Revy taps on Rock's shoulder, who violently jerks in response. She motions him to cover the other side of the hallway, which Rock obliges by running and ducking through the hallway. Across the hallway are three doors, one on the left, one on the right, and one at the far end. At this point, the powder cocaine has found its way into both Revy's and Rock's noses, who are suddenly feeling the effects of the narcotic. Without warning, Rock ducks and enters the hallway, M9 in hand, as Revy yells "Get the fuck back!"

The door on the left slams open, striking Rock in the forehead and knocking him on his ass. The man behind the door, Javare, who is dressed in a green t-shirt and jeans, sporting a moustache and five O'clock shadow, with wavy hair combed to the right, clutches tightly onto a SIG P210 pistol. He blindly fires around the door, as Revy yells "FUCK!" She turns the corner and fires five shots from her Cutlasses, but not before Javare got off three rounds of his own. The first of Javare's bullets sails into the wall next to the TV. The second bullet sails harmlessly into the ground. The final bullet gashes the skin on Rock's right ribs, drawing blood. The first two of Revy's bullets harmlessly strike the wooden door. The third bullet hits Javare in his left hand, the fourth penetrates the door and hits Javare in his pelvis right above the crotch, and the fifth bullet penetrates the door and strikes Javare in the back of his head, cutting open the jugular vein.

Rock feels a surge of pain, as if his right ribs have just been hit by a club. Suddenly, a burning sensation takes over Rock as Javare drops face first to the floor, bleeding to death. "Rock! You okay? Fucking answer me!" Revy yells out, ducking into the hallway to check on Rock. Rock groans in pain and gives Revy the thumbs up gesture with his left hand. Suddenly, the door at the end of the hallway swings open as Sudhir yells out in Hindi "Tukh un bahana karmikeli jarehay, madar chod (You're going to bleed, motherfucker)!" Revy spots this and ducks back into cover as Sudhir fires a round from his shotgun, a SPAS-12 without the buttstock. The shot strikes the wooden cabinet under the TV. As Sudhir prepares to pump the SPAS-12, Rock climbs to his feet and lunges at Sudhir. He uses his right shoulder to pin the SPAS-12 to the right wall. Rock then fires three shots into Sudhir, the first shot striking Sudhir's extended left arm, the second striking his left lung, and final bullet striking Sudhir's stomach. Sudhir slumps to the ground, dropping his shotgun, bleeding heavily and coughing blood.

Suddenly, Sudhir reaches behind his waist, drawing a Glock 17. Favoring his right ribs, Rock spots the glint of metal and quickly fires a shot into Sudhir's heart, killing him. He turns around to find that Javare has bled to death. Revy pockets one of her Cutlasses and yells "Rock! You got shot, is it serious?" Rock laughs and says "I'm fucking alive! I have no idea how I'm alive! Who cares about a scratch on my ribs…argh! Now it's starting to throb!" Revy pats Rock on his right shoulder and scans each room for any further hostility. Satisfied, she pockets her other Cutlass and says "You get a paper towel and clean up. I think you dripped some blood on the floor. I'll look for the money. Don't turn off the fucking TV, no matter how annoying that shit is. The music drowns out our noise."

Holstering his M9, Rock pants and groans, asking "All of the blood on the floor?" Revy rummages through one of the two bedrooms, the one on the right, saying "Just your blood. If you can't find detergent, just use cold water. Best you can do anyway." Rock approaches the living room of the apartment, almost stepping on Meghana's dead left hand. The TV ends the clip of "Neeve Nanna" and begins to play a clip of "Amma Amma", also from "Dance Raja Dance." Grabbing a paper towel, Rock tears off a roll of several sheets, all still attached to each other. He tries to turn the faucet in the kitchen sink on, but no water comes through. Groaning in pain, he walks toward the bathroom, avoiding blood pools and stepping over Javare's body.

Having rummaged through the bedroom on the right, Revy turns her attention to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, stepping over Sudhir's feet. Rock approaches the bathroom sink and pours water on the paper towel. Tearing the paper towel in half, he soaks his bleeding rib with water. Tossing the blood covered paper towel into the toilet, he steps back into the hallway and finds the blood pools that he left behind. Cleaning the blood pools, Rock says "Revy, I need a new set of medical tape for my chest again."

"Why didn't you use the fucking sink in the kitchen?" Revy yells out, flipping over a mattress. Rock groans and says "The water wasn't running…wait a minute." He tosses the other blood soaked towel into the toilet and jogs toward the kitchen sink. Opening the cabinet underneath the sink, he finds that a pipe is missing from the sink and that a continuous leak of water is pouring next to a black duffle bag. Quickly shutting off the faucet, Rock returns to the duffle bag and pulls it out of the cabinet. Unzipping the bag, he glares in shock and delight as entire stacks of brightly colored monies gleam under the ornery, fluorescent ceiling lamp. Every stack begins with the number 1,000. Rock laughs and grips tightly onto the duffle bag, yelling "REVY! WE ARE RICH!"

Revy runs back into the living room, almost tripping over Javare's blood soaked head. Behind her ski mask, she gleams in excitement as she approaches the duffle bag. Peering into the contents, she turns to Rock and yells "YOU FUCKING IDIOT! THESE ARE INDIAN RUPEES! Look at the picture of Gandhi on them and shit!" Rock laughs and says "There are still a lot them. Sure, I know, one grand in rupees isn't much in USD, but still! Holy shit!" Rock zips the duffle bag up and hands it to Revy. He returns to the bathroom, flushing the bloodied paper towels. Revy kneels down by Meghana's body and pulls out a rolled up 1,000 Indian Rupee note, the tip covered in blood. "Yeah, fuck this," Revy mutters, tossing the bill away.

Rock returns to the living room and nods at Revy, saying "Let's get out of here before the cops show up." Revy slings the duffle bag around her right shoulder and runs toward the exit. Swinging the door open, she jogs toward the stairwell as Rock steadily follows, grunting in pain. As the two exit the apartment, they break into sprints and run toward the Town Car. Revy quickly unlocks the driver side door and steps into the driver's seat, unlocking the rest of the doors with a push of a button. She tosses the duffle bag into the seat behind her as Rock jumps into the passenger seat next to Revy. They both slam their respective doors shut as Revy turns the engine on with her right hand. Rock removes his ski mask and gloves as Revy mashes the gas pedal and drives away.

Rock smiles and turns to Revy, saying "I think I snorted some of the cocaine." Revy removes her ski mask with her left hand and replies "Same here, I'm a little high, heh." Rock laughs and says "This doesn't help my detox." After a pause, he continues "So…I say we did well today, 'World's Greatest Grandpa'." Revy laughs and yells "Fuck you, you idiot!" Rock favors his blood soaked ribs and says "I got shot! I thought it would just feel like cutting your finger with a kitchen knife, but damn…argh!" Revy stops at a red light and removes her gloves, saying "I had worse Rock. You'll be fucking alright. You had me scared shitless for a bit. The fuck you were thinking, heading into the hallway?" Rock groans and says "If I didn't, we would have been spending the evening playing duck and cover with that guy's shotgun. He didn't see me, which allowed me to surprise him."

Revy drives past the intersection and says "Don't take unnecessary risks, Rock!" Rock ignores her and laughs. His laughter turning into grimacing, Rock says "I think I know what you meant earlier. About 'combat high', back when we were watching that Japanese movie. I'm starting to come down from the adrenaline and cocaine rush." Revy grimaces herself and mumbles "Hm."

After a long pause, Rock inquires "You know where Leroy's temporary place is?" Revy nods and says "Yeah, he wrote it down, next to the address of the Indian robbers." Rock nods and says "So, what now?" Revy thinks for a second and responds "Now…now we are going to bring the money and our clothes to Leroy. The money will get counted, we will get our cut, and hopefully he'll have something to fix up your ribs. A bandage or some shit. A bag too, maybe. For our clothes. We are going to have to burn them someplace." Rock smirks and says "You are very thorough." Revy sighs and says "Again, this isn't official business. I want to be doubly-fucking sure that this doesn't come back to us. Dutch is already pissed off enough."

Arriving in front of a 4 floor apartment building, Revy parks the Town Car. She shoves her ski mask and her gloves into her hoodie's pockets as Rock does the same. Their pistols holstered, also in their pockets, the two exit the car, Revy holding the duffle bag in her arms. They enter the apartment and come across a wall of mail boxes. Revy nudges Rock and says "Apartment 4, on the left." Approaching apartment 4, Revy knocks once, and then three times in rapid sequence. Leroy slowly opens the door, stepping outside with a Heckler and Koch HK4 pistol as Revy and Rock funnel into the apartment. Seeing that the coast is clear, Leroy steps back in and locks the apartment door.

"We got the stuff, Leroy, but Rock got shot. Nothing serious, just a gash on the ribs. Got any bandages or something?" Revy asks, dropping the duffle bag on the floor. Leroy turns to Rock and says "First door from the entrance. Check the cabinet." Rock nods and enters the bathroom, removing his blood soaked hoodie and pants.

As Rock tends to his wounds, Revy unzips the duffle bag and presents the spoils of war. Leroy kneels by the duffle bag and says "That's a lot of rupees. They must have exchanged the money from the bank car for their local currency. Never seen so many rupees at once though. They are hard to export out of India." Leroy pulls a table closer and proceeds to empty the contents of the duffle bag onto the table. Leroy and Revy count the money as Rock nurses his wound.

Rock exits the bathroom, half naked, his pants soaked in water. A set of bandages cover the wound on his ribs, adding new layers to the tape on his chest. Leroy scribbles onto a sheet of paper and says "Well…that gives us…wow…slightly over half a crore." Revy smiles and says in disbelief "Half a crore? As in…5 million rupees? You're fucking shitting me!" Leroy laughs and says "It is for real, Revy. 5,600,000 rupees…holy shit!"

"How much does that give us in American currency?" Rock asks, grunting in pain. Leroy pulls out a sheet full of exchange rates and a calculator. Pushing several numbers in, he exclaims "$142,143! We struck gold!" Rock laughs, M9 in his right hand, asking "So you are saying…that Revy and I just made nearly 36 grand…like just that? I...I just made almost the equivalent of 10 months of work back in Japan…wow! 10 minutes and I just made $36,000…WOW!"

Rock and Revy both restrain the urge to kiss each other in front of Leroy, realizing quickly the potential disaster that could follow if word ever got out. Revy smiles and says "I forgot our regular clothes in the car. While you exchange the money, I'll get them here. You got a garbage bag we could use? We need to burn this shit." Leroy nods and says "Yeah…I got one. Just remember to knock when you come back."

Revy stares at Rock, wondering whether it be a good idea to leave him with Leroy. She grimaces and yells out "Hey Leroy, I look forward to future business, alright. Keep me posted if anything interesting comes up." "Yeah, yeah, you got it," Leroy replies as Revy exits the apartment. Leroy locks the apartment behind Revy and turns to Rock, asking "So…you want a beer?"

Rock shakes his head and slightly waves his right hand. He waves his M9 at Leroy and says "While Revy is out, let's exchange the rupees into American money." Leroy nods and says "Alright, I think I got $71,071 and change in American money."

As Leroy and Rock organize American currency on a table, a knock thunders through the apartment, followed by three brisk knocks. Leroy gets up and prepares to head to the entrance, before turning to Rock "If you steal anything, I'll know about it, so don't." Rock rolls his eyes as Leroy approaches the door. Annoyed and slightly anxious, Revy proceeds to knock violently on the door without hesitation. "Alright, alright already!" Leroy yells out as he lets Revy in, who is holding a shirt, a pair of shorts, a pair of pants, and two shoulder holsters for her Cutlasses. Leroy locks the door behind Revy as she props their clothes onto the floor.

Revy exits the bathroom with a black garbage bag full of clothes, having changed into her original attire. Rock, already in his original clothes, finishes stuffing the money into the duffle bag, tossing a quarter and three pennies into it. "So, are we done with the fucking bean counting?" Revy blurts out, dragging the garbage bag. "Hey, it's your pay day," Leroy replies as Rock zips up the duffle bag. Rock gets up and offers Leroy his hand, which Leroy shakes. "Nice work, Rock," Leroy mutters blankly. Revy laughs and says "Good thing I didn't get that coke and snot covered 1,000 note that the Indian woman was snorting with. We'd be here all day, debating on how to split a penny."

Leroy glares at Revy and says "You left 1,000 rupees at the apartment?" Revy laughs and says "Yea, not like you can buy anything with money covered in blood and cocaine." Leroy grabs his calculator and punches in a few numbers. Looking at Revy, he says "You owe me $12.69." Revy smiles at Leroy and says "Why wasn't I invited to your bar mitzvah?" Leroy laughs and says "I was born a Methodist. From South Carolina, in America. Now, $12.69. I said 50 percent of the money, and that 1,000 rupee banknote was part of the money. 50 percent of the money, as is."

Revy snickers and says "This is a joke, right?" Leroy snaps his fingers and extends his right hand, saying "$12.69 could get me a sake and bento box dinner at the Japanese restaurant in Balkana Square. C'mon Revy, it's a recession right now in Thailand. Money is tight."

Revy looks at Rock, and then at Leroy. Sarcastically laughing, she pulls her wallet out of her shorts and fishes out a $20 bill, American. "For the sake of our fucking convenience, I'll round up to $20." As she extends the $20 toward Leroy, she suddenly jerks her arm back. Laughing, she presses the $20 to her nose and blows into it. After blowing her nose into the $20 for half a minute, she extends the $20 note toward Leroy, who takes a step back. Revy tosses the saggy note at Leroy, who steps out of the way as the note falls on the floor.

Satisfied, Revy approaches Leroy and says "50 percent…as is. Sake and bento box dinner? Up your ass." She turns to Rock and says "We're leaving." Rock grabs the duffle bag and slings it over his left shoulder, snickering to himself. Garbage bag in hand, Revy swings the door open and exits the apartment, with Rock trailing behind.

Closing the doors to the Town Car, Rock and Revy dump the bag of clothes and the duffle bag onto the backseat. Revy turns the engine on and drive off, snickering "I think we did okay today, Rock." Rock laughs and says "We sure did, 'World's Greatest Grandpa'." Revy grinds her teeth and says "If that shit is going to become a catchphrase…fucking nip it in the bud!" Rock laughs and shakes his head, the pain in his ribs beginning to dwindle down. He pulls a pack of Natural American Spirit out of his pants and fishes out a pair of cigarettes. He puts both of them in his mouth and pulls out a lighter. Lighting them both, and taking a drag, he hands one of the cigarettes over to Revy. Still driving, Revy extends her head toward the cigarette and bites it out of Rock's hands, saying "Thanks."

Parking next to a set of derelict buildings, Revy exits the Town Car. Rock reaches for the bag of clothes in the backseat and exits the car as well, bag in hand. Revy closes the door and motions toward a green barrel leaning against a derelict building. She grabs the barrel and brings it to the middle of the empty sidewalk. Looking around, she asks "Didn't we fuck here before? After the hobo shit?" Rock surveys the buildings and says "Yea, I think it was here. Interesting." He dumps the garbage bag full of clothes into the empty, green barrel. Staring at the bag full of bloody clothes, Rock says "We need an accelerant to be sure that it burns thoroughly."

Revy nods and says "I bought a bottle of Bacardi 151. Should let it burn nicely." She returns to the Town Car and retrieves the bottle, plus the folder and piece of paper that Leroy handed to her in the vacant lot. Returning to the barrel, she hands Rock the folder and sheet of paper. Revy then removes the cap of the rum, takes a whiff of it, chuckles, and takes a swig of the Bacardi. Swallowing the rum, she then pours some of it over the opened garbage bag, soaking the clothes in rum. Revy then screws the cap back on and motions at Rock for the folder and sheet of paper. Revy places the sheet of paper back into the folder and pulls out her lighter. Setting the folder alight, she drops the folder into the barrel.

The barrel erupts like Krakatau, flames burning throughout the insides. Revy and Rock both take a step back, standing side by side, watching the fires burn. Rock grimaces and asks "Revy…in a span of a month, I killed four people. Luca Cavalcanti, Tuksy Morea, a hobo whose name I don't even know, and a man named Sudhir. I mean, I am fine. I don't really care, I think, but I still get these thoughts in the back of my head at times. How do you cope with it?"

Revy takes a deep breath and says "You don't think about it if it bothers you. You don't think about it in a way that does bother you. That's the magic in it. It's when you think about it in the wrong way, that's when you get those stinging feelings in your gut, in your head. So don't think about it…think about the money instead." Rock meekly smiles, favoring his right ribs. He says "Alright, I'll think about you instead." Revy smiles, rolls her eyes, and says "Fucking idiot."

Rock smirks and asks "Want to drop the money off at home and then head to the China Bowl?" Revy nods and says "Yeah, I'm hungry and shit. Let's fuck off out of here." Rock laughs and says "Yea, let's do that."

* * *

AN: India uses a numbering system in that, after the first three digits, a comma appears in every two digits. A crore means 10 million.


	2. A Mountain Master Never Cries

Seated in a large restaurant, Raymond Takahashi picks up glass noodles from a bowl of soup. He is dressed in an orange collared dress shirt tucked into black trousers, a red tie, and brown dress shoes. The restaurant is large and spacious, yet barely occupied. A Vietnamese waiter props a plate of Szechuan style pork and noodles on a table in a booth, as James Apuna, dressed in a black dress shirt and black jeans, prepares his fork. By the entrance, a set of water tanks housing fish and lobster glow a bluish hue, meshing with the grayish color of the restaurant.

Suddenly, an Asian man steps into the restaurant, Type 54 pistol in his right hand. The man is dressed in a light pink buttoned collared shirt, the shirt unbuttoned, a white undershirt, grey jeans, and a pair of sky blue sneakers. He is bald, wearing a gold watch, and is sporting a very faint Vandyke beard. He has somewhat pale skin, round cheeks, and a round chin. The man walks up to Takahashi and puts the barrel of his Type 54 pistol to Takahashi's forehead. A couple of patrons scream and run to the kitchen. Takahashi bites into his chopsticks out of shock, causing a splinter of wood to lodge itself into his lower lip. James Apuna drops his fork and draws a Nambu Type 94 pistol, a shocked expression on his face.

The man with the Type 54 presses the barrel further into Takahashi's forehead and darts a chuckle towards Apuna. Apuna slowly approaches Takahashi, aiming the Nambu pistol with both hands at the unidentified man. The unidentified man turns to Takahashi and says in a Korean accent "My name is Ji-hoon Seok. I know who you are, Mr. Takahashi. I know about your business, about your trade. I know about your sister…I know what she did. $500,000, American. That is what it will cost for me to not pull this trigger. Igeos in geihm ianibnida (This is not a game). I will fucking kill you, and I will kill your sister, and I will kill everyone in your family. I will drag your sister here and fuck her as you watch, right before I slash her throat. I will find your family and kill them, every last one of the Takahashis. $500,000, American. Two days from now, this restaurant, 2:00 P.M. Deal?"

Takahashi sits in his chair in complete horror and shock. He opens his mouth, the broken ends of the chopsticks falling out of his slightly bloody mouth and onto his soup. He hyperventilates, almost about to have a heart attack. Without daring to look at Seok and the barrel of his gun, he mumbles out "D…D…Deal…"

Seok nods, taking a step back, the barrel leaving an imprint on Takahashi's forehead. Aiming his pistol at James Apuna, Seok coldly says "$500,000, American. Two days from now. This restaurant. 2:00 P.M." He speaks as if he rehearsed his words several times in front of a mirror. Seok walks backwards as James Apuna, sweating and nervous, stands between Seok and Takahashi. Seok reaches the fish tanks, nods once again, and bolts out of the restaurant.

James Apuna turns Takahashi and says in English and Hawaiian "Kala mai ia'u (I'm sorry)! I did not see him coming…are you alright? Pehea `oe (How are you)?" Takahashi places his right hand in his mouth, his hands still shaking. He pulls the splinter out without flinching, wiping the bloodied piece of wood on the tablecloth. "Call Chang," Takahashi mumbles, still in shock. Apuna stares at Takahashi and asks "I didn't hear you. What did you say?" Takahashi turns to Apuna, all the color in his body gone. His face almost a ghostly apparition, he says "James Apuna…please call Chang. Bai Ji-Shin Chang."

Inside his bedroom, Dutch lies on a bench press, a 200 lb barbell above Dutch and on its rack. He is wearing a white sleeveless shirt and black track pants. Meanwhile, sitting on the sofa, Rock snacks on a bag of cheese puffs while watching a game of sepak takraw on the television. He is shirtless and in black shorts. Rock licks his fingers and wipes some of the cheese powder onto his shorts. He reaches into the bag again, only to find it empty. Frowning, he tilts the end of the bag upward and lets crumbs and cheese powder slide into his mouth. As he crushes the bag in his grip, Dutch yells out "Rock? You still there?!"

Rock climbs off the sofa and approaches a waste bin, replying "I'm still here, Dutch." After a pause, Dutch asks "Is Revy still here? Benny?" Tossing the empty bag into the bin, Rock approaches the kitchen sink and says "No, I think they left." As Rock washes his hands, Dutch blurts out "I would like a spotter."

Rock raises his eyebrow and asks "A spotter? Spotting what?" Dutch takes a deep breath and says "Come over to my bedroom. I'm about to bench press."

Rock steps into Dutch's bedroom and spots the bench press and barbell, realizing what Dutch is saying. "You want me to make sure that you don't choke yourself, right?" Rock inquires. Dutch nods and says "It's a 200 pound barbell. That alright with you?" Rock glares at the barbell and says "200 pounds? To be honest, I never have been in an actual, authentic gym in my entire life." Dutch rolls his eyes and says "Come over here and try to spot me."

Rock steps behind Dutch, taking a deep breath. As Rock grabs onto the bar, Dutch says "Make sure that my hands are equally spaced apart, and that the bar is right above my chest. Do not jump in unless I say so or I clearly am about to have the bar crush my throat. I don't want you ruining any repetitions. Let's try a situation where I may need your help, just to see if you can actually spot me." Dutch grabs onto the bar of the barbell. Rock nudges Dutch's left hand to bring his hands at even spacing. Dutch notices this and says "Good, you are listening."

Dutch grabs the barbell and lifts it over his neck. Rock nudges the barbell slightly forward, bringing the bar over Dutch's chest. Dutch grunts and nods. He brings the bar close to his chest, and then feigns difficulty in holding the barbell. Realizing the point that Dutch is making, Rock reaches onto the bar and prepares to pull it up. With significant difficulty and some help from Dutch, Rock pulls the barbell back up and onto the rack. Dutch nods and says "Good, just one point. I didn't have my elbows locked when the barbell was being put back on the rack. Make sure I do have them locked. It's a safety precaution."

Rock slightly pants and says "200 pounds is awfully heavy. I heard you could get a hernia from this." Dutch laughs and says "I weigh around 280 pounds, and I can bench up to 350 pounds in at least one repetition. I prefer to do 200 pounds at 15 repetitions though. One set, once a week if possible, just to stay active. I rather get hurt on an actual job then during exercise."

Rock nods and says "Okay. I weigh around 75 kilograms…I think that is around 165 pounds. My record in bench pressing is 0." Dutch laughs and says "All I need for you is to make sure that my throat isn't crushed. I highly doubt that it will be an issue, but again, just in case."

Dutch grips onto the bar. Rock nudges and adjusts his boss' grip into equal spacing from the ends of the barbell. Dutch pulls the barbell off the rack and raises it in the air. Rock adjusts the barbell so that the bar is above Dutch's chest.

One repetition. Two repetitions. Rock scratches the back of his head, wanting to speak up. Three repetitions. Four repetitions.

"So Dutch, did you hear about those Indians that were shot in the apartment?" Rock suddenly blurts out. Five repetitions. "Yeah, I heard," Dutch replies. Six repetitions. Seven repetitions.

"They robbed a bank car in Malaysia," Rock blurts out. Eight repetitions. Nine repetitions. "Yeah, I read about that," Dutch replies. Ten repetitions. Eleven repetitions.

Rock swallows saliva in his mouth and blurts out "It was me and Revy. We robbed those Indians."

As Dutch locks his elbows for the twelfth repetition, his brain processes Rock's comment. A blank look sprouts on Dutch's face as he says "…the hell?" He loses his grip on the bar, the barbell falling towards his chest. Rock lunges forward and grabs onto the barbell, the bar barely a centimeter from Dutch's chest. Dutch adjusts his arms and grabs onto the barbell, and the two of them pull the barbell back onto the rack.

Dutch calmly wipes sweat off his forehead and climbs off the bench press. He turns toward Rock and casually pushes Rock to the wall with his right forearm, pinning him to the wall. Keeping his composure, Dutch calmly says "What the hell are you doing? Again, what you do on your own time is your own business, but I would really prefer if I was kept informed about anything that could come with serious implications."

Rock squints as Dutch's forearm presses into Rock's taped chest. Waving his arms in surrender, Rock says "I was going to tell you. I just did! It's New Years Eve and me and Revy wanted to invite you and Benny for drinks with the money we got from the Indian gang. Our treat. Not the Yellow Flag…someplace downtown. I've been thinking of the Wat Pho Tavern."

Dutch smiles, nods, and removes his forearm from Rock's chest. He says "The Wat Pho Tavern is a very nice place. I appreciate the invitation, and I'm sure Benny would as well. As for the robbery, the police haven't released any details on the apartment shooting…did you and Revy leave a mess? Any witnesses?"

Rock shakes his head and says "We used ski masks and gloves, and we burned our clothes. I got shot, that's why I have the extra tape on my chest. I cleaned the blood I left behind to the best of my abilities…cold water. It's not perfect but I doubt that the Roanapur Police Department will trace this to us."

Dutch nods his head and says "Alright…I appreciate the honesty. And thanks for the invitation. Just next time, don't spring crazy news like this on me while I'm lifting something that could kill me." Rock nods and says "Sorry Dutch. It was a stupid mistake on my part. Do you want to finish the workout?" Dutch nods and says "Yeah, though I want to start from the beginning. 15 repetitions, just stay quiet."

Driving in the Town Car, Rock, in his shorts and his salaryman dress shirt, and Revy, in her black tank top and shorts, speed through the Red Light district of Roanapur. Revy, in the driver seat, yells out "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT OF THE SKI MASKS AND SHIT?! FUCKING WHY?! ROCK, YOU DIPSHIT FUCKING RETARD!"

Rock groans and replies "And you don't think that Dutch won't find it suspicious on how we are not asking for money from our bank accounts?! It's called protecting your assets, Revy! What if someone breaks into our studio and finds 70 grand just lying around? First, our money would be stolen, and second, the thieves might come back again, expecting another pay off! If we could steal the money from those Indians, then someone could just as easily steal the money from us! At least now the money is a relatively secure bank. I know, some shady bank in Panama or wherever that bank that Dutch uses is not exactly trustworthy, but I'd rather risk that then risk having someone lunatic throw a Molotov Cocktail into our studio for no good reason, and then have 70 grand ON TOP of everything else suddenly disappear!"

Revy grinds her teeth and yells "All the fucking preparation! The ski masks! The burned clothes! The fuck was that for, huh?!" Rock slams his right fist against his car door and exclaims "That was to keep the police from finding us, not Dutch! If the police would have found us, they would have taken almost all of our money for themselves, if not everything! On top of a bribe! Revy, now the money is Dutch's responsibility, not ours. And besides, I invited him and Benny to the Wat Pho Tavern. We are splitting the bill for the four of us."

Revy glares at Rock menacingly and yells indignantly "Oh we are fucking paying for it, eh?! Not you…but we?!" Rock slams his back against his seating in frustration and yells "Yes we! Or have you forgotten about how you almost killed two very important clients in front of Dutch's eyes?! And that I helped lock the door and allowed you to take my pistol in the process?! This is a way that both of us could make amends, and to calm down both Dutch and Benny, who are still probably freaked out about yours truly carrying a gun."

Revy's indignant demeanor morphs into confusion as she asks "What does Benny have to do with this? Does Benny have a problem with you?" Rock groans and says "I think he is still upset over how the Feng incident ended, with him picking brain matter out of Jane's hair." Revy shrugs her shoulders, calming down. She says "Okay, but Benny and I have no problem. I don't see why I have to pay for his drinks." Rock laughs, rolls his eyes, and says "You could always throw something painful at his head after the drinks, call it even."

Revy snickers and says "There's always fucking that, that's true. Alright Rock, you made your point, but you better hope that Dutch and Benny aren't going to be drinking shit with gold leaves in them. You sure Dutch wasn't pissed off?" Rock laughs and says "I think he was a little angry that I sprung the news on him while I was spotting him during bench presses." Revy bursts out into laughter and says "You were spotting Dutch?! Fucking how?!" Rock shakes his head, laughing, and says "With great difficulty." Revy continues to laugh at a lower intensity, asking "How heavy was the barbell?" "200 pounds," Rock quickly replies. Revy snickers and nods, saying "Not too bad."

Rock shakes his head and says "As long as I don't break my spine, I'm alright. So, what you are thinking about for dinner?" Revy mashes the horn as a grey Citroën BX cuts in front of the Town Car, stopping before a red light. "You shit for brains asshole!" she yells out as a middle finger is extended out of the driver side window of the Citroën. Revy rolls her window down and sticks her head out, yelling "Put that finger away before I shove it up your asshole!" Rock shakes his head and chuckles, saying "You know that whoever it is…in that car…you probably won't ever see again."

Revy returns to her seat and says "Well anyway…to answer your question…I'm thinking about that Indian restaurant that Reynolds recommended. 'Jewel of Jalandhar', that good?" Rock nods and says "Sure, though maybe we should have kept a few rupees, heh." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Yeah…not a good fucking idea." Rock sighs and says "It was a joke, Revy." Revy laughs and says "No, it wasn't. Jokes are supposed to be funny and shit." "Revy…" Rock mutters, reaching for the car radio.

Rock turns the car radio on, cutting into the middle of "California Dreaming" by The Mamas and the Papas. He rolls down the window and reaches into his black shorts for a pack of cigarettes. Placing the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with a lighter, Rock takes a drag and says "We start work on Friday." Revy nods and says "Yeah, I know." She drives through an intersection, navigating around an elderly Vietnamese woman that is standing in the middle of the road with groceries.

Exhaling smoke, Rock says "Two days ago, a new General Secretary was elected in Vietnam. Phiêu Khả Lê, replacing the previous General Secretary Đỗ…something. I forgot the previous leader's name." Revy snaps her fingers and points at Rock's cigarette. Rock smiles, takes a drag, exhales, and hands Revy his cigarette. As Revy exhales smoke, she asks "What does that have to do with anything?" Rock shrugs his shoulders and reaches for his pack once again, saying "It could be relevant. The new General Secretary used to be in the Vietnamese Army. A high ranking general."

"Hmm, interesting. Think Zappala has anything to do with either of those guys? I highly doubt it," Revy says as Rock lights a second cigarette for himself. Rock shakes his head and says "Yea, of course. Highly unlikely that he would be working world national leaders in Southeast Asia. Though he obviously has to have some political connections, at least at the regional level, to get a privately owned recycling facility in Southern Vietnam. Especially to get away with using that facility for extracting precious metals from electronics. I am just saying, this could be important if anything does come up."

The song "California Dreaming" ends, to be replaced by "Somebody to Love" by Jefferson Airplane, as Rock and Revy drive towards the 'Jewel of Jalandhar'.

Revy parks the car in front of a small restaurant, a black awning on the restaurant that says with gold letters in Hindi, Thai, and English "Jewel of Jalandhar." Exiting the car, Revy tosses her cigarette on the asphalt and crushes it. Rock does the same as Revy closes her car door. She waits for Rock to close his car door, and then locks the car. The two approach the door to the restaurant, with Revy taking the lead. She opens the door and steps inside.

Inside the restaurant, Revy and Rock immediately spot two hookah pipes being prepared on a bar counter. The bar, situated to the right of the restaurant, is attended to by a Punjabi man with a thick goatee, slightly graying black hair that is combed back, and a cleft chin. To the left is a column of tables, a few occupied by patrons. The walls are painted in amber and the ceiling is painted a dark brown color. By the door, a Punjabi woman with black hair tied to a ponytail, wearing a light blue buttoned dress shirt and black trousers, holds a pair of menus and greets Rock and Revy.

She says in Thai "Sawatdee Ka (Greetings)." Rock smiles and says "We speak English." The Punjabi woman exhales in relief and says "Praise Allah! My Thai is horrible. English is good for me." She notices Revy's Cutlasses, the pistols tucked in their holsters, and says "Those are fake, right? I heard about those fake guns that venders sell to tourists. I'm thinking of getting one on the safe side. Are you from China? Korea?" Revy sighs and lies "Yea, they're fakes. And we're from Canada." The Punjabi woman nods and says "You're probably our first customers from North America. We opened recently. Follow me."

The Punjabi woman leads Rock and Revy to an empty table. Revy seats herself with her back to the wall and Rock seats himself across from Revy. "Want to drink? We got alcohol," the Punjabi woman inquires. Revy thinks for a second and asks "What beers you got?" The Punjabi woman turns around to the bartender and yells in Hindi "Ham biyrka hai (What beers do we have)?!" The bartender looks around and then turns back, replying "Kingfisher, Kalyani, Becks, Heineken…Krusovice." The Punjabi woman turns around and says "Well, that's our selection."

Revy thinks for a second and says "Any you recommend? Besides Heineken and Krusovice." The Punjabi woman places the menus on the table and says "I like Kalyani Black Label. It's a strong beer, though." Revy leans back and forth and says "Alright, get me one of those." The Punjabi woman nods and turns to Rock asking "And you?" Rock replies, saying "I'll just a get a Krusovice. Thank you."

As the Punjabi woman walks away, Rock turns to Revy and whispers "She said 'Praise Allah'. That makes her a Muslim, I assume. I thought alcohol was forbidden in Islam." Revy laughs and rolls her eyes, saying "I thought killing and stealing was forbidden in…well…whatever religion you grew up with." Rock laughs and says "Buddhism. My parents were both…well…sort of…Nichiren Buddhists." Revy glares at Rock and asks "Nichi-what?" Rock quickly replies "Nichiren. It's a branch of Buddhism that stresses non-violence, solving disputes through debate, and the idea that everyone can reach 'Nirvana' in their present life. They were heavily persecuted in medieval Japan, monks slaughtered, temples burned…by other Buddhists even. The founder, a monk named Nichiren, said that if people would attack them, even kill them, that Nichiren followers must not attempt to retaliate or engage in violence. Yeah, I know…call me a hypocrite."

Revy chuckles and shakes her head, saying "That sounds pretty fucking stupid. People try to kill you and you are supposed to take it because some dead guy said so?" Rock laughs and says "My parents aren't really adherents, they were just raised by their parents, and their parents weren't strict about it either. My family is basically just all Mahayana Buddhists. I'm probably confusing you right now…look at it this way. Buddhism has two traditions, Mahayana and Theravada. It is kind of like Catholicism and Eastern Orthodox Christianity. From each tradition comes their own various branches, like for Mahayana there is Nichiren Buddhism, Zen Buddhism, and so on. My family has roots in Nichiren Buddhism, but are basically just Mahayanas. Do you get it?"

Revy nods and says "I get it but I think it's pretty fucking stupid." Rock grimaces and says "I personally tried to adhere to Nichiren Buddhism…as a concept…I liked the idea of it. I thought it was a beautiful thing. Roanapur made me realize how it doesn't always work well in every place…though." Revy nods and says "No shit."

Rock and Revy pour over the menu as the Punjabi woman returns with their drinks. As she places Rock's and Revy's beers on the table, the Punjabi woman asks "Are you ready to order?" Revy nods and raises her menu, pointing at it and saying "I'll get the beef and yogurt wrap with naan bread, regular, not whole wheat." The Punjabi woman writes down Revy's order and turns to Rock, saying "And you?" Rock nods and says "I'll get the rogan josh…it's lamb curry, right?" The Punjabi woman nods and says "That is correct." Rock thinks for a second, and then asks "How spicy is it?" The Punjabi woman writes down Rock's order and says "Not really spicy at all. If you ever tried tandoori chicken, it is more or less the same. The dish is very hot though…as in temperature hot." Rock nods and says "Alright, that is good for me."

The Punjabi woman then prepares to leave, before turning around and asking "Do you want a hookah pipe? We have a lot of different flavored tobaccos." Revy turns to Rock and shakes her head. Rock shakes his head as well and turns to the Punjabi woman, saying "Maybe next time."

The Punjabi woman leaves as Rock and Revy turn their attention to their beers. They sip their beers in silence as the Punjabi woman returns with a hookah pipe. She sits down in the table next to Rock and Revy, seated right next to Revy, and proceeds to put hot stones on top of the hookah pipe. The Punjabi woman smiles and turns to Rock and Revy, saying "I'm taking a smoking break. Don't worry, someone else will bring your food. My name is Kalpana. My husband Satish, the bartender, and myself, we own this restaurant. It was a dream of ours, back when we met in Jalandhar."

Revy nods and says "It does look like a good place, I have to admit. Though just a tip, Roanapur is a bit more of a Vietnamese speaking city then a Thai speaking city, though more English is still good in more cases then not. Just saying. I noticed that the menu has translations in Thai, not Vietnamese." Kalpana smiles and says "I know, but this restaurant is directed toward the local Indian community and for tourists from the rest of Thailand, plus Americans, Canadians, Australians, Brits…so on."

Rock takes a sip of his beer and says "Your English is very good." Kalpana smirks and says "It has to be. I studied very hard so I could use it in the restaurant business. We thought about opening it in England, but decided on Roanapur instead. Satish knows friends in the community…they helped us get set up."

Suddenly, a Vietnamese man in a chef attire steps out of the kitchen, holding a plate with a wrap on his left hand and a bowl with a pad underneath it in his right hand. He places the plate with the naan wrap in front of Revy and the bowl of curry in front of Rock. Rock and Revy nod and say "Thanks." The chef turns around and returns to the kitchen. Kalpana exhales from her hookah and says "Our chef…we are lucky to find a local that knows Punjabi cuisine. One of Satish's friends recommended him."

Rock and Revy both nod and turn their attention to their meals. As they each finish half of their meals, Kalpana asks "So how did you know about us?" Rock glares at Revy with an annoyed look on his face, as Revy rolls her eyes and thinks to herself _"Will she ever shut the fuck up?"_ Rock takes a gulp of beer and says "We were recommended by a friend. A guy from France."

Kalpana's eyes light up as she asks "Was he black, bald, with some facial hair? His name was Reynolds, I think." Revy nods and says "That's him. We've done business with him before. He's a friend of ours." Kalpana nods and asks "You're from Canada, right?" Rock slowly nods and says "Yea, from Detroit." Revy glares at Rock and forces herself not to burst out in laughter. Kalpana glares in confusion and says "I thought Detroit is in America." Revy interjects, saying "We're from Windsor, but no one knows where the fuck Windsor is. So Rocky here likes to say Detroit, because Windsor is right across the border from Detroit." Kalpana nods and says "I see."

A Thai man suddenly steps into the restaurant. Kalpana steps out of her seat and attends to the patron. As she gets out of earshot, Revy turns to Rock and laughs, whispering "Detroit? C'mon mister college education. Michigan…Rock. Detroit, Michigan. Not Canada, Michigan." Rock rolls his eyes and says "Here's a quiz. I'll pay you $50 if you can tell me the capital of Hokkaido prefecture." Revy chuckles and enters a state of deep thought, determined to win the $50. After several seconds, she guesses "Tokokama." Rock laughs and says "One, it's pronounced 'Yokohama.' Two, the answer is Sapporo, like the beer." Revy grins annoyingly at Rock and flips him the bird. Rock smiles and says "I think I proved my point."

The two return to their meals, finishing them in silence as Kalpana tends to the customer.

Seated inside a lounge area in the Bougainville Trade Company, Martin Zappala, dressed in a green and white plaid collared shirt, beige trousers, and black sandals, and Fred Viapiano, dressed in a white collared shirt that is covered in small, black fleur-de-lis, black jeans, and white tennis shoes, each eat a plate of pelmeni dumplings on a coffee table, the dumplings smothered in sour cream. Zappala breaks a dumpling in half, letting minced pork and beef fall out of the mussel-shaped shell. Viapiano nods and says "These are pretty good, thanks. Hey Marty, these are like your dad's pierogi, right?"

Zappala wipes sour cream off his lips and says "My dad didn't cook, Freddy. And I fucking hate pierogi." Balalaika seats herself across from Viapiano and turns to Zappala, asking "You are Polish?" Zappala tilts his head side to side and says "Half-Polish. Father is Polish, mother is Milanese. I switched to my mother's name. Organization doesn't like to induct anyone with a last name that ends in ski, you know how it is."

Balalaika stirs a cup of coffee with a spoon, saying "Let's skip any further pleasantries and focus on the task at hand." Behind her, inside the room, Polansky seats himself on a reclining chair next to a refrigerator, watching a Thai cartoon. Sipping from a bottle of Baltika 3 lager beer, he occasionally laughs at the cartoon, not understanding a word of it. He is shirtless and dressed in brown shorts, wearing grey sandals. Balalaika grinds her teeth and drowns out Polansky's occasional laughter.

As Balalaika sips from her cup of coffee, Viapiano nods and says "We're here about turf and property, that's the long and fucking short. We know that you have a lot of turf and property that those 50 percent finocchi (faggots) from Sicily used to own, and a lot of that turf and property is just collecting dust. In some cases, eating away at your profits due to the need for maintenance and shit. We are here for that."

Balalaika nods and takes a gulp of coffee. Setting the cup down, she asks "How do you wish to start this?" Viapiano pulls out a folded map from a back pocket and places the map on the table. He unfolds the map and stretches it out. The map has several pen markings on it, various locations circled, crossed-out, and highlighted, with various notes written on the side. Viapiano sticks his fork into the last dumpling and eats it. Setting the fork down, he wipes sour cream off his lips with a napkin and steps closer to Balalaika and the map. He points at a street on the map and says "Let's start with this. We want some turf to set up shop. You sell us your claim, and we'll get the ball rolling from there."

Driving in Benny's GTO, Black Lagoon Company cruises through the streets of Roanapur. At the driver seat, Benny is dressed in a black collared shirt and beige slacks. Seated in the front, next to Benny, Dutch takes a drag from a cigarette, dressed in a greenish-blue and white polka dot collared shirt and dark blue trousers held up by his signature belt. Behind Benny, Rock is wearing his salaryman dress shirt and a pair of new, brown slacks that are held up by a new, brown, leather belt, the dress shirt tucked into the slacks. Behind Dutch, Revy is wearing a dark blue tracksuit with sky blue vertical stripes on the sides of her tracksuit top and her tracksuit bottom.

Knocking ash off his cigarette and onto the asphalt, Dutch says "Rock, Revy? I got your money into the bank. Well, the chunk of the money that you wanted to be secured, at least. The money is enroute to the bank as we speak. They had to take a 10% percent laundering fee because the amount was too large, as opposed to the usual 5%. They needed some extra compensation to justify the risk." Revy sighs and says "Fine…thanks Dutch." Benny crosses an intersection and asks "What are you talking about?" Dutch leans back in his seat and asks "Did you read about the shootout in the apartments on Muang Street?" Benny nods and says "Three dead Indians that were wanted in half of Southeast Asia for robberies…total bloodbath. No witnesses so far and police have no idea where to begin…wait a minute! Revy…ROCK?! That was you?!"

Rock nods and replies "It was us." Dutch exhales smoke and says "Mind if you walk us through what happened?" Rock nods and says "Revy kicked the door open and I went in first. There was a woman named Meghana…she was about snort a lot of cocaine. Another Indian, Sudhir, was watching TV. I shot at Sudhir and missed. He ducked into a hallway in the apartment, and Meghana raised her gun at us. I got a shot into Meghana, Revy finished her off. In the process, the cocaine got kicked into the air and the two of us accidently snorted some of it. My face was numb."

Benny laughs and says "I did read in the newspaper about the police finding a lot of coke on the floor." Rock yawns and says "Yea…after Revy killed Meghana, Sudhir and another Indian, name was Javare, they were talking between each other in separate rooms…Javare from the bathroom. Revy took the side of the hallway entrance that was closer to the door outside, I took the side opposite of Revy."

Revy interjects, saying "And then my shit-for-brains partner entered the hallway as Javare was exiting the bathroom. He got Rock in the forehead with the door, and Rock here was the idiot lying on his ass as Javare was blindly shooting with a pistol. I got Javare, but that asshole snuck in a bullet that grazed Rock's right rib." Rock groans and says "It was deeper than a graze, Revy." Revy shakes her head, chuckles, and says "Don't be a pussy."

Rock raises his arms in defeat and rolls his eyes as Benny says "That's one of the reasons for why I don't stick my head out like the rest of you do. I consider bullet holes to be a mess to my general routine." Revy scratches the back of her neck and says "Fucking mosquito bite! Anyway, out of nowhere, this fucking Indian cocksucker comes out with a shotgun! I ducked back into cover before he could take my fucking brains out. Rock jumped from behind the bathroom door and pinned that other Indian…Sudhir right? He pinned the barrel of his shotgun to the walls and shot Sudhir with his M9. Took him out. I ransacked the place as Rock cleaned his blood off the floor. Somehow, Rock found the money under the sink in a cabinet, all rupees. We went to Leroy, who gave us the job, and had our cut of the money converted into USD. We got over 70 grand together…a good haul. We split it 50-25-25, with Leroy getting half."

Benny grimaces and nods, impressed. He says "140 grand is a lot in one apartment." Rock yawns again and says "Yeah, Leroy said…or at least suggested…that they got the money from a bank car in Malaysia. Well, now it's ours." Dutch exhales smoke and says "And now Rock and Revy are treating us to drinks." Benny's eyes light up as he asks "Oh, so you two are picking up the tab at the Wat Pho?" Rock nods and says "Yea." Benny grins and yells "Oh Jesus! Sorry you two, but I'm celebrating tonight!" Revy groans and says "Yeah, be happy it's New Years Eve, dipshit."

The GTO parks behind a grey Jeep CJ, the Wat Pho Tavern right in front of the CJ. The four exit the GTO, with Dutch crushing his cigarette on the pavement. Benny locks the car as Dutch takes the lead towards the entrance of the Wat Pho Tavern. Right above the entrance to the Wat Pho is a green awning that has a picture of a golden sleeping Buddha.

Dutch steps into the tavern, with the rest of Black Lagoon Company following suit. A Vietnamese server in a tuxedo greets the group with a slightly annoyed grin. As Dutch prepares to say something, the Vietnamese man awkwardly smiles and blurts out "A moment." He turns to another Vietnamese man, the man dressed in a grey buttoned down dress shirt tucked into black trousers, appearing to be the owner. The server asks in Vietnamese "Chúng ta có nên để cho họ bên trong (Should we allow them in)?" The owner grimaces and surveys Black Lagoon Company, tilting his head back and forth. After a pause, he asks "Yêu cầu họ nếu họ tốt với chỉ uống (Ask them if they are fine with just drinking)."

The Vietnamese server turns to Dutch and says "Excuse me, but I am afraid that you and your friends are underdressed. We are willing to let you in the bar. However, we cannot seat you at the restaurant…I am sorry." Dutch sighs and says "That's alright…we came here for the bar." The Vietnamese server nods and extends his right hand toward the bar. Dutch, Rock, Revy, and Benny each seat themselves on a stool, in that order from left to right, in the otherwise empty bar. An Asian man with long, black hair tied into a ponytail, dressed in a pink collared shirt and blue jeans, rims a margarita glass with salt. He places the glass on the counter as a server takes the drink.

The bartender turns to his audience and says "Hey…you speak English?" Benny nods and says "Yea, we do." The bartender smiles in relief and says "Good, my Thai and Vietnamese is complete shit. Name's Clarence, what can I do for you?" Dutch smirks and says "I'll have a glass of the most expensive thing you have." Clarence thinks for a second, and then says "That will be Don Julio Real, Extra Añejo, tequila." Benny yells out "Don Julio Real?! Holy shit! I second that, I haven't had a Don Julio since I left Mexico." Revy groans and digs into her arms, saying "Fuck!"

Clarence laughs and says "I take it that you two in the middle are paying. Say...where you all from?" Dutch speaks out "Me, Benny…the guy in the black shirt, and Revy, the one in the tracksuit, are all from the States. Rock here is from Japan." Clarence's eyes light up as he says "I'm from the States too. Portland, Oregon. Japan? You gone a long way." Rock laughs and says "Yea, I have." Clarence turns to Rock and Revy and asks "What you gonna have?" Rock says "Bacardi Gold rum." Revy says "Same here."

Clarence nods and says "Coming right up." As he prepares the drinks, Revy says "Hey Dutch, Benny. Remember that Indian restaurant that Reynolds recommended? Where I told him that he wasn't eating a fucking gyro? Rock and I went there." Benny leans forward and asks "How was it? I've been meaning to give it a try." Revy sighs and says "Food was alright but one of the waitresses, who was also one of the owners, she wouldn't shut the fuck up. She made Reynolds sound like a Marx brothers film…just kept on talking and fucking talking. I was trying to eat my food, asshole!" Benny shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't mind that." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Well I fucking do!"

Suddenly, a thought creeps into Revy's head as she snickers to herself. "Hey Dutch, Benny. Funny thing happened during the restaurant," she says, as Clarence props Rock's and Revy's drinks on the counter. As Rock and Revy each take a sip of rum, Benny asks "What happened?" Rock rolls his eyes and raises his arms in defeat as Revy says "We told the lady at the restaurant that we are from Canada. Long story, but she seemed way to curious for my liking. Anyway, when she asked from where in Canada, Rock said Detroit." Clarence nearly drops the bottle of Don Julio Real as he and Benny burst out in laughter. Dutch chuckles and asks "Are you speaking metaphorically, or did you really think that Detroit was in Canada?" Rock groans and asks "Want me to quiz you on the cities in Japan?"

Dutch laughs and says "Well I should know, I'm from Detroit." Rock, Revy, and Benny quickly jerk their heads as Benny says "I thought you said that you were from Oakland. Cali." Dutch shakes his head and says "No, I lived in Oakland for a while, but I'm from Michigan. I was born and raised in Ann Arbor, and then lived in Detroit for a few years before I left to Oakland. It's a long story and I would rather not get into it." As Clarence places Dutch's drink on the counter, Benny smiles and says "I'm not going to push you." Taking a sip of Don Julio Real, Dutch replies "I wouldn't budge even if you did push."

The four enter a state of awkward silence as Clarence props Benny's drink on the counter. Rock grimaces for a second, and then grabs his glass, saying "Anyway, it's New Years Eve, well, for us at least. 1997 is about to be the in past, and I would be the first to admit that this past month alone has been completely crazy." Revy snorts and says "Shit, you can say that again." Rock nods and says "What I'm saying is, here's to 1998 being a lot less crazy then 1997." Rock raises his glass, as Revy, Benny, and Dutch follow suit. "To '98," Dutch says. "To '98," Benny reiterates. "Fat chance that it's going to be less crazy, but…well, fuck it. To '98," concludes, as the four of them finish their glasses.

Clarence laughs and says "I'd pour myself a glass but I like having a job." Rock lets the rum warm up his body, saying "Maybe you could open your own bar up. Then you could drink on the job." Clarence sighs and says "I'm lucky to have a job here in such a place. Took everything I could take when I ran away from America, and that wasn't everything I actually owned."

Revy wipes rum off of her lips and asks "Ran from the cops?" Clarence scratches his back and says "No, scarier. My wife and her scumbag attorney. I found that bitch getting fucking in her snatch by that asshole…with my fucking cigar case. In our bedroom! On my side of the fucking bed! And then they were going to use some bullshit backroom politics to sue me for divorce…they beat me to it. They were going to take half, and that sleazy cocksucker was going to pull it off." Dutch smirks in amusement and asks "How did that get resolved?" Clarence grimaces and says "I emptied my bank account into cash, grabbed and pawned everything that I was able to stuff into my car, except my clothes and the important stuff. I drove north of the border into Canada, then sold my car there. Booked a flight from the airport in Kelowna and took the flight to Bangkok…it was the cheapest flight into Asia. I drifted for a while, and then I ended up in Roanapur with this job. Not as good as Oregon, but hey, at least my pride is intact."

Revy raises the glass to her lips, letting a few remaining drops of rum flow into her mouth. Finishing her cup, she says "I would have shot both those assholes, called it a day." Clarence laughs and says "I seriously considered setting the house on fire…but I didn't want to get anyone else hurt. Plus, I was on a time limit before the courts take half. Now she got…well, less than half, and no one knows where I am."

Benny stretches his neck and says "That was pretty drastic. Did you even try to see how the divorce would play out?" Clarence smiles nervously and says "I was in the preliminary hearings. It was brutal for me. I saw how the wind was blowing and took action. And here I am now."

Revy surveys Clarence and says "I recognize you…you were that lifeguard on the beach here in Roanapur. The one who saved that little girl from that shark last August. The governor of Trat gave you a civic duty award, right?" Clarence sighs and says "That's me alright. Please, no autographs." The entire Black Lagoon Company erupts in laughter as a waiter approaches the bar with an order. Clarence goes to work as Benny says "I heard about that too. Did you actually punch the shark?" Clarence nods a few times and says "Right in the nose. All 170 pounds of Chinese muscle, right in the face. I'm still kinda pleased with myself for that." Revy snickers and sarcastically says "Muscle…yea right."

"Laugh all you want. Though I can't say that I want to return to lifeguard duty. People sooner give tips for alcoholic drinks then for life-saving rescues," Clarence says, mixing a cocktail. Dutch sighs and says "That's life. It has been this way for thousands of years, and it will probably be this way for thousands more." Benny raises his glass and says "One more Don Julio Real, the extra aged one again." Revy groans in annoyance as Dutch orders the same.

"$212 in drinks. Not bad, not bad at all," Dutch smirks to himself, staring at the bar tab. Revy groans as she and Rock fish out their wallets. They split the bill, with Rock adding a $30 tip on top of the bar tab. Benny pulls out his cell phone and stares at the time. Looking up, he says "It's still 10 P.M. Want to head over to Gustavo's for Texas Holdem?" Revy glares at Benny in confusion and asks "He's having poker on New Years Eve?" Benny nods and says "Yea, same rules as always, and he's using the TV to watch the fireworks." As Rock says his goodbyes to Clarence, Dutch and Revy turn to each other and nod. Benny glares at Rock and mumbles "I take that as a yes…hey Rock! We're going to Gustavo's for Texas Holdem." Rock blankly stares at Benny and says "Oh, alright."

"You sober enough to drive?" Dutch asks, looking at Benny. Benny nods and says "Yea, I'm saving my liver for the free beer at Gustavo's place." Dutch nods as the four approach the exit.

Inside Chang's penthouse loft, Takahashi screams and clutches onto Chang's shoulders, dressed as he was earlier. Yelling frantically, Takahashi says "You promised! You said that this will be a simple management job! Sell narcotics, handle production, distance myself from everything else! You said that this will be a simple administrative position, that police wouldn't be an issue! Why didn't you tell me this in the country club?! Why didn't you tell me that lunatics might try to wipe out my family?!"

Chang, dressed in a black, collared, Hawaiian parrot shirt, patterned with multi-colored parrots on green palm leaves, and dark blue trousers, replies "Calm down, Ray." Takahashi screams, pulling hair out, tears rolling down his eyes. He replies back "Calm?! A lunatic threatened to hunt down my family! He said he was going to kill my sister. I DON'T HAVE A SISTER! Basil…Chang…I'm terrified! You are my friend! Why are you so cold and uncaring?!" Chang twitches and grinds his teeth. At his threshold, Chang yells back "WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY?! You didn't think that this could happen?! Are you that much of an idiot?! HUH, RAY?! Wake up! Grab a coffee, down a scotch, jerk off…I don't care just shut the fuck up already! Right now, you are affecting my thought process, and it is getting on my nerves. So sit down!"

Takahashi sits down on a leather sofa chair, hyperventilating. Chang stares at Takahashi and says "You want a drink? I have Jack Daniels." Takahashi shakes his head and waves his right hand, wiping away tears with his left. Chang sighs and says "So I take it that Songxie didn't tell you about his latest pest control operation?" Takahashi stutters and asks "N-no, what do you mean in 'pest control'?" Chang smiles and shakes his head, saying "Songxie is a very smart man. He wanted to make sure that your reaction was genuine." Takahashi stands up and asks "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chang waves his right index finger around and says "Your partner, Songxie Tong…he trusts the personnel that he brought in. He can vouch for them. I can vouch for Reynolds and the select couple of personnel that I myself recommended. Several of your men, the others, have been brought in only by background checks. Songxie spread false but harmless rumors about you, within your organization, to see if anyone has loose lips. Apparently, someone does, and that someone either blabbed about it carelessly or actually informed a rival in person. If it's the former, it happens. If it's the latter, you got yourself a serious problem." Shocked, Takahashi rubs his forehead and says "Songxie did this? I…well, I now know that I need to speak with him."

Chang sarcastically smiles and says "I thought as much. By the way, did you catch the name of the guy that was extorting you?" Takahashi nods and says "Ji-hoon Seok." Chang laughs and says "Seok? Interesting. If you're going to be extorted by a psychopath, might as well get an Olympic medalist in that event." Takahashi sits down and asks "What do you mean?" Chang sits down on an opposite seat, a coffee table separating the two, and grabs a tall glass and a bottle of Jack Daniel's Number 7 whisky. He pours to slightly less than a third of the glass and seals the bottle of whisky. Getting off his seat, glass in hand, Chang approaches his kitchen and says "I know Seok. Well, I know of him. If he actually knows where your family is, he would probably do as he promised. Good thing he doesn't, since that man is a total loose cannon. Which also could suggest that he is not doing this on the behalf of the Koreans in Bangkok. This wouldn't be the first time that Seok went lone ranger and almost caused a gang war."

Chang reaches into his refrigerator for a bottle of Coca-Cola. Unscrewing the cap, he pours the coke into the glass as Takahashi asks "Why would Songxie do such a thing? What would people want with my family?" Chang sighs and says "You saw how someone reacted with information about a fake sister. Imagine how people would react if someone found out that you are gay and that you have a male lover in Honolulu…that chiropractor whose name I forgot. No one would take you seriously! Listen, I don't care…that's your choice, your lifestyle. I don't judge, and I honestly couldn't care less. But the facts are facts, and right now, you are an unknown element…and a not respected one at that. Listen, I've been hearing things…and from what I gathered, people think of you as an idiot that is completely over his head. Are you? You tell me. I didn't give you this opportunity as a gift, Ray. I brought you in to keep the stability of Roanapur in check. I am not here to become the only drug baron in Roanapur, because I know that that would be a Sisyphean endeavor. No, I am here to make my money, and I want the right rivals in the right positions to ensure that everyone would make as much money as possible with as little bloodshed as possible. That's why you are here. So tell me, Ray, are you in over your head?"

Takahashi takes a deep breath and calms down, saying "No, I am not in over my head. I understand." Chang puts the bottle of Coca-Cola back in the fridge and stirs his Jack and Coke with a small, silver spoon. As he stirs, he asks Takahashi "So what is your next move?" Takahashi exhales a deep breath and says "I am not certain…I came here for help. Help for what…I wasn't sure. Now I am…so let me pick your brain. Basil…Chang, are there any recommendations that you have for me?"

Chang tosses the silver spoon into the sink and takes a sip of his cocktail. Satisfied, he takes a large gulp of it. After a pause, Chang says "For one, you are the boss. You are the Mountain Master, the Don, the Cartel Head, however you want to call it. Remember one thing Ray. Mountain Masters never cry." Takahashi laughs and says "I do admit that I must have looked somewhat pathetic. I do have an idea, Basil." Chang approaches Takahashi, glass of Jack and Coke in his hands. Sitting down in his original seat, Chang says "I'm listening."

Takahashi leans forward and violently smirks, saying "Your talk of your organization reminded me of a clever tactic that the Triads have used. Where they would hire a bunch of addicts to exaggerate their numbers during street confrontations, to intimidate a rival gang, to intimidate someone…the list goes on." Chang takes a sip of the Jack and Coke and says "Sai ma. Show of force, they call it in Cantonese. I was involved in organizing a few of those back in Hong Kong…we would hire opium addicts, drunks, impoverished teenagers. We would pay them some money just to show up, and to wear some form of identification. Sometimes we would give them free food, free clothes, the list goes on. All they did was stand around and try to look slightly intimidating…it is a great tactic. Very effective in diffusing a violent situation. We would avoid an actual bloodbath, and the local poor would make some very easy money."

Takahashi nods and says "I have a similar idea in mind. Seok would probably flee if anything was out of the ordinary. The time he picked for me to pay him…the restaurant is usually extremely busy at that time. 2:00 P.M., when everyone is having lunch. If that restaurant would be empty, which it would have to be if he will be dealt with at that moment…he would disappear. I am thinking of having a show of force…of sorts. I want to hire a couple dozen of your men, plus any women that they know, plus a few other people. Maybe Kaeo or Mongkut or Kamol, maybe they have people to spare. I want them to fill up the restaurant, becoming an artificial crowd. I want the waiters to tell any incoming patrons that they are full. Then, when Seok is close enough, I want someone to seal the doors and a couple others to carry him into the back, where he will be dealt with. Lastly, in the interest of silence, I want someone from your organization to deal with Seok. Since I currently have a mole in my organization, as you told me, I think it is best that no one from my organization is sent into that restaurant. We will settle a price, for both the show of force and the handling of Seok."

Chang laughs and sips on his cocktail, watching Takahashi reveal a side to him that Chang never expected to see. Takahashi asks "What is so amusing?" Chang places his cocktail on the table and says "That was probably the smartest thing that you ever said since you came here. To be honest, I was starting to worry that you were out of your element. Maybe Seok holding you at gunpoint…maybe that caused something to snap in you. Maybe." Takahashi grimaces and says "Perhaps. Since I arrived, I nearly suffered three heart attacks. It has been a learning experience. Regardless, Seok threatened to wipe my family out, and that is a threat that I cannot take lightly. A message must be sent, one that tells Roanapur that I am not a doormat. So Chang, do we have an arrangement?" Chang grabs his Jack and Coke and takes a sip, saying "Yes, it is agreed."

"Órale (What's up)! Black Lagoon Company is here!" Gustavo exclaims as he proceeds to confiscate everyone's weapons, starting with Revy's two Cutlasses. Proceeding with Dutch's and Rock's guns, he unhooks the chain to the door and allows Black Lagoon Company to step inside the backdoor of his mini mart. Locking the door behind them, Gustavo, dressed in his light pink sports jacket, purple undershirt, and light blue trousers, motions at the poker table and says "We only got two vatos (guys) at the tables. Fridge is stacked and we are watching the fireworks at midnight."

Entering the poker room, Rock spots an Asian man with short, combed black hair, dressed in a grey collared shirt with diagonal green stripes, and a slightly tanned Western European-looking man with wavy hazel hair combed to the right, dressed in a black shirt that says in red lettering "Evidently Chickentown."

Rock sits to the right of the European-looking man, Revy sits to the right of Rock, Benny sits between Revy and the unnamed Asian man, and Dutch sits to the right of the unnamed Asian man. Gustavo approaches the poker table and says "I take it you haven't met these two vatos yet. The bolillo (white boy) is a tourist from England, here to catch the sun and not the clap." The Brit sarcastically laughs and says "Oi, name's Will. William Baird." Rock nods and shakes Baird's hand. Gustavo laughs and says "Oye (listen), I wouldn't recommend touching that hand. Who knows how many ladyboy culos (asses) that that hand has been in?" The entire table, aside from Baird and Rock, snicker in laughter as Rock wipes his hands on his pants and Baird says "You know he is just taking the piss over here." Revy glares at Baird and says "You got piss on your hands? Stay the fuck away from me!" Baird groans and waves his arms in defeat.

Gustavo tosses Rock and Revy each a bottle of Negra Modelo. He tosses Benny a bottle of Corona Extra and Dutch a bottle of Dos Equis Amber. Baird passes Rock the bottle opener as the four of them say "Thanks." The four of them proceed to drink their beers.

Gustavo, amused, points at the unnamed Asian man and says "Hey Rock. We got another guy from Japan. Meet Koji Tanahashi." Rock leans forward and says "Hey, doh kokara kitano (where you from)? I'm from Tokyo." Koji leans forward and says "Same, I live in the Akihabara district." Rock frowns in pity and says "Akihabara? That must be a madhouse, living there." Koji grimaces and nods, saying "Oh yes! Between all the electronics and otaku stores attracting tourists and locals alike by the truck load and constant blast of advertisements...I don't mind it though. I got used to it." Revy glares and asks "The fuck is an otaku?" Rock laughs and says "Well…how do I put this? Alright, otaku goods are pretty much anything that can be collected for a hobby, like comics, cartoons, dolls, so on. Otaku are basically collectors. Some of these people are kind of bizarre…there's some stigma involved. Though last time I checked, Akiba town was still mainly selling electronics." Koji folds his arms and says "They are on the decline…now those comics and cartoons are becoming more popular commodities. I'm actually thinking of opening up a store there if I could scrap together the yen."

Rock laughs and asks "Catering to the otaku crowd? Be careful that you don't attract another Miyazaki Tsutomu." Koji glares at Rock in fear and says "Oh great Buddha, I hope not." Benny gets up and says "I got to take a piss, Gustavo. Bathroom is opened?" Gustavo laughs and says "Go on. I think Thailand found their candidate for the 100 meter Olympic sprint." As Benny bolts towards the bathroom, Dutch turns to Rock and asks "Who's Miyazaki?"

Rock sighs and says "He was this guy who had this huge collection of anime shows and horror films. He then went on to kidnap four little girls, who were around 4-6 years old. He would kill them, molest their corpses, and then sometimes eat the flesh or drink the blood. After testing him on his insanity, they went ahead and sentenced him to death earlier this year. Yeah, he is Japan's version of Ed Gein."

Koji shakes his head and says "I don't like how the media in Japan is trying to pin anime and horror films as the cause of this. Whatever happened to crazy being crazy? It's just bad for business when I'm thinking of opening a store for just that. Anyway, I hope that manko (cunt) hangs. Sick monster!" Rock sighs and says "He is not going to hurt anyone else. He won't get released." Koji glares at Rock and says "Oh yea? Watch. Some bakayarou (asshole) in the courts will try to make him look rehabilitated and let him go free during the appeals. Why? Political points! Just watch." As Benny returns to his seat, Revy laughs and says "Not our fucking problem."

Gustavo snickers and nudges Rock, saying "Hey Rock, ask Japonés (Japanese) here on what he does for a living." Baird laughs and says "Oh this is going to be entertaining!" Koji sighs, rolls his eyes, and says "Alright, I own a website where I draw and upload pornographic cartoon images. Yeah, I know. I draw hentai, laugh it up. Hey, there's a lot of money in it!" Everyone except Koji bursts into laughter as Revy uses her hands to make an image of a five legged squid getting a handjob. Koji rolls his eyes and says "I get enough jokes from my friends, alright. Seriously, there is a lot of yen to be made from that, in subscriptions…in advertising revenue. So don't judge."

Benny laughs and says "You know, this reminds me of that time that I fucked around with the NSA of America…kinda. This was after I joined Black Lagoon Company. I heard that the NSA were doing internet wiretapping…and yes, I know I'm in Thailand, but there's always a chance. So to amuse myself, I started typing up keywords like .50 caliber sniper rifles and Bill Clinton campaign stops, and searched for those, checking a few websites. Then I looked up a few conspiracy theory websites to really make sure that…if anyone is watching, that I have their attention. Then I searched 'Japanese Tentacle Porn' and clicked on some nasty video. I watched a couple of seconds of it and immediately ran outside before I vomited. I still check my email every now and then to see if I get a cryptic message that says "Fuck you. Sincerely, NSA."

Everyone except Revy snickers at Benny's anecdote. Revy simply glares and hisses, yelling "Why…are you…SUCH A FUCKING FAGGOT?!" She tosses her now empty bottle of Negra Modelo at Benny, clocking him in the forehead. "OW! That hurt!" Benny exclaims as Gustavo yells "Órale! Tranquilo, tranquilo (relax, relax)!" Revy glares at Gustavo and says "I walked in and saw that shit! I couldn't eat for a fucking day! It took a couple of amobarbitals and a glass of rum to get that image out of my head!" Everyone snickers except Revy and Benny, the latter rubbing his forehead and former yelling "It's not fucking funny!"

"So Gustavo, when are we gonna play a hand?" Dutch inquires, sipping his beer. Gustavo turns on the television and says "Carajo (shit), in a few minutes. The New Year starts in 15 minutes, I want that to pass before I start a game." The television plays a New Years broadcast in Singapore, showcasing a marina. "Qué lástima (what a shame), Thailand doesn't celebrate New Years like in Mexico. Best we got is Singapore with its fireworks display. Pinche (fucking) time zones!" Gustavo laments, reaching for a bowl of grapes and tearing one off the vine.

Rock sips on his beer and says "Hey Koji, Will, you two are a long way from home. Not celebrating with family?" Baird exhales a deep breath and says "This here bloke is soaking in every minute of his holiday in Thailand. I dread my return to Bristol. I work in Bristol International, the airport. Air traffic control…work is complete bollocks!" Koji smirks and says "That's why you should work for yourself. I don't have any superiors giving me quotas. I don't have to work myself to death just to keep my job. I just draw to make money. Only rush is to keep my wallet nourished." Revy sarcastically laughs and says "Yeah, you just draw tentacle dicks drilling little girl's assholes, you sick fuck!" Koji opens both palms of his hands and rolls his eyes, saying "Hey, I don't draw that. I mainly do BDSM pictures." Gustavo laughs and says "Hey, draw whatever you want, vato. Pornografía (pornography) is recession-proof."

"So how's Bristol? I never visited the U.K.," Benny asks, curious. Baird grimaces and nods slowly, saying "How do I put it? If I would describe Bristol to you, I would say that it is akin to the local post office. As in, it's full of mentals and mingers. As opposed to Brighton, the city that I was born in, which is instead full of arse bandits."

"Cállate (shut up), it's about to be the fireworks," Gustavo interjects, tossing Revy, Baird, and Koji each a bottle of Negra Modelo. He then chews on a grape and reaches into the fridge for a bottle of Tecate. They all turn their attention to the television, beers in hand. As the clock hits midnight and the fireworks are released, Gustavo raises his bottle of Tecate and yells "Feliz Año Nuevo (Happy New Year)! Dios (God) willing, may the year bring great luck and wealth to us all!" The rest of the table extends their beers for a toast, saying "To 1998!"

As Rock takes a long gulp of beer, a sudden sense of anxiety overwhelms him. He stands up and asks "Excuse me, but where's the bathroom?" Gustavo nudges his head to the left and says "First door on the left." Rock nods and turns toward the bathroom. Stepping inside, he locks the bathroom door behind him and turns to the sink, his anxiety turning to dread. Feeling sick, he falls to his knees, turns toward the toilet, and vomits his dinner into the bowl.


	3. A Farewell To Widths

"So pizzi e casa, o so pizzi e galera? Arò stai chiuso ra mattina, a sera! Si o purgatorio, e tutta chesta genta, ca vive in barracche…e vive e stiente! (Is this a place for home, or a place for prison? Where you are locked from morning, to night! You are purgatory, for all these people, who live in slums, and live in need!)" A man sings to himself, in Neapolitan Italian, the words to "Vesuvio" by Neapolitan folk band Zezi, wearing a gas mask on his face. He is dressed in a grey apron with a purple t-shirt underneath it, G3A3 rifle slung over his back. The man, sporting short, black hair, leans on a railing that is overlooking the ground floor of what appears to be a factory line at a glance.

Toxic smoke fills the air as Vietnamese men and women attend to various workstations throughout the ground floor, extracting precious metals from electronics through a variety of methods, ranging from prying open computers with crowbars to setting them on fire. The various Vietnamese laborers dress themselves in matching aprons as well, with slightly more than half of them wearing gas masks. On the overlooking floor, several windows have been left open, allowing the toxic fumes to exit the facility and mingle with the outside air.

Suddenly, a Vietnamese woman in a gas mask and a grey apron, wearing a light blue collared shirt under the apron, stops next to the man. She has long black hair tied into a ponytail, carrying a Madsen M50 submachine gun, the sling of the gun draped over her right shoulder. Taking a glance at the ground floor, she turns to the man and says "Chào anh(Hello), Nathaniel. Lady working on the circuit burning…she had an accident. Right foot caught on fire. I sent her to the doctor in the city. Gave her some money to keep her quiet. You owe me 610,000 Dong, or 50 dollars in American. I prefer American."

Nathaniel laughs behind his gas mask and says "Let's toss in some courage to your new found virtues, Tuyết. Make it 1,000,000 sesters...sekters…damn, what was the currency used in Ancient Rome again?" Tuyết tilts her head back, trying to understand what Nathaniel is saying. She asks "Is it that stupid phim (film) again?" Nathaniel stands back and waves his arms around in shock, exclaiming "Spartacus is an amazing film! After work, I'll give you $50. Go to the city and find a videotape store. Watch it. Remember, I'm going to quiz you on it! And I will get the soundtrack installed and looped on the loudspeaker!"

Tuyết shakes her head in exasperation and says "Thánh nhân đãi kẻ khù khờ (The saint who deals in warehouses). Or as they say in English, fortune smiles upon idiots." Nathaniel laughs and says "Stop trying to crush my balls, Tuyết. I am just trying to amuse myself. Hey, maybe after work, I'll bring my copy of Spartacus over. You have a VHS player?" Tuyết slumps her shoulders in annoyance and says "$50 after work. Just $50. I am serious. Oh, almost forgot. Martin is coming over to pick up the barge tomorrow. Make sure that the last batch of garbage is on the barge."

Nathaniel nods and says "I know, I know. The barge is really piling up though. Turning into Monte Vesuvio (Mount Vesuvius). Oh, by the way. Chúc mừng năm mới (Happy Lunar New Year)." Tuyết laughs and shakes her head, saying "It's not Vietnamese New Years yet. Tết is on the 28th. By the way, it is bad luck to not pay back owed money before Tết. Just saying."

Nathaniel laughs and dramatically places his right hand on his forehead, saying "A mating of the eagles, your sanctity! Fan her magnitude, she sweats!" Tuyết shakes her head in exasperation and resumes to her patrols, muttering under her breath "Đụ ngốc (stupid fuck)" as Nathaniel resumes to his imagination.

"One! Two! And three!" Dutch yells as he, Rock, Revy, and Benny, all four dressed in their usual clothes aside from Rock, who is wearing his Jai Yen Yen shirt with brown shorts, push a 4 feet by 3 feet by 3 feet block of crushed, compacted garbage, ranging from broken computer monitors to flattened calculators. The four of them, standing on a mountain of these blocks, tip the block over the barge and into the South China Sea. "So…" Dutch says, panting "who is Suphawut? I heard you asking Gustavo about him, after we started playing cards." Panting as well, Rock says "He is a friend of mine. I allowed him to owe me money on a bet. I was asking Gustavo to make sure that he didn't come back to gamble with money that belongs to me." Benny laughs and says "Rokuro Okajima…the friendly neighborhood loan shark."

Back on the Lagoon, attached to the end of the barge, Martin Zappala sits on a lawn chair with a European looking man. Zappala is dressed in a blue Genelli tracksuit, can of Heineken in his right hand. The unknown man, dressed in a sky blue S.S.C. Napoli soccer jersey and black track pants, sporting black, shoulder length, widow's peak hair with a few streaks of grey, sits on a lawn chair next to Zappala, also with a Heineken in hand. He has a slightly wrinkled face and appears to have just entered his 50s. Taking a sip, Zappala says "Hey Nicky, I'm getting flashbacks to those no-work construction jobs in Grandview, back in Vancouver."

"Three!" Black Lagoon Company shoves a second block of garbage into the water. Groaning, Revy says "That's two down…and a shit load to go. Fuck, those assholes over there could give us a hand. Zappala and…that other guy." Benny positions himself behind a third block and says "Nicky Ippolito, that's his name." Revy sighs and says "Yeah, him." As the four prepare to push a third block into the water, Rock groans out and swears "This feels like we playing a game of fucking life-sized mahjong!"

Benny clutches his teeth as the four pirates tip the block into the sea. Panting, he says "You know I'm not even supposed to be here. I should be manning the radar in case some unwanted guests show up." Dutch glares at Benny and nods, saying "Yea, why the hell are you even up here? Get back to the ship." Benny uncomfortably grins and says "Just so no one would accuse me of not doing any heavy lifting."

Revy pants in exhaustion and turns to Zappala, saying "Hey Marty! Can you or your friend get off your cushioned asses and give us a hand?" Marty finishes his can of beer and turns to the barge, watching as Benny climbs back onto the Lagoon. Crushing his beer, Marty says "I hired you people to do the heavy lifting so I could take it easy. And why is Garth from Wayne's World heading back here?" Benny rolls his eyes and rapidly says "I'm needed at the radar, in case some pirates from the Strait of Malacca decide to show up." Zappala squints his eyes and glares at Benny, saying "Did you just call me an 'ass-pirating straight malaka'? That shit doesn't even make sense!" Ippolito turns away from Marty and silently laughs to himself.

Rock leans against a block of plastic/metallic garbage, catching his breath. Looking toward the sky, he says "We would be finished in half the time if we would split up into two teams of three and two." Dutch nods in agreement and turns to the Lagoon, yelling "Martin! Nick! How strong are you two?" Ippolito sets his can of beer on the ground and approaches the barge. Following suit, Zappala kneels by the barge and says "I'm paying you guys 2 grand for this job, so stop busting my balls alright? C'mon, I'm getting my tan working over here!" Dutch groans in annoyance and says "I understand Mr. Zappala, but the sooner we are done, the sooner we all can go home. I do not understand why that is so hard to get."

Zappala turns to Ippolito and says "You heard the man. Get your hands dirty." Dutch looks to the side in annoyance, slouches, and says "I meant both of you. Nick and I would handle one side. You, Rock, and Revy would handle the other." Zappala glares at Dutch with a disgusted look and says "Hey, this is a fucking Genelli! This tracksuit costs 300 bucks!" Ippolito turns to Zappala with his hands outstretched and an annoyed look on his face, saying "Back off, Prince Charles! This is a Diego Maradona jersey I'm wearing, a fucking collector's item!" Zappala shakes his head in amusement, saying "Maradona could suck my dick for all I care, and Napoli is so shitty that it ain't even in Serie A anymore!" Ippolito sighs and shakes his head, as Zappala continues "Besides, who gives a shit about soccer?!" "Oh!" Ippolito interjects, visibly disturbed.

Lagoon Company shoves another block into the water as Zappala and Ippolito argue. Annoyed, Revy yells out "Hey Rock! Give 'Genelli' and his friend 'Jim Morrison' a pair of your shirts!" Zappala laughs and says "Hey Nicky, you do kind of look like that guy from 'The Doors'." Rock sighs and says "Sure, one second." As he escorts Zappala and Ippolito into the interior of the Lagoon, Revy says "Who the fuck buys a $300 tracksuit?! I like wearing one because they are comfortable, have deep pockets for my Cutlasses, and are easy to replace in case blood gets on them. I don't buy this overpriced designer shit."

Returning to the deck of the Lagoon, Zappala, Ippolito, and Rock approach the barge, with Ippolito taking point. Ippolito is dressed in his own black track pants and a loaned red shirt that says "Sepak Takraw" on it in white Thai and English lettering. Zappala, holding a grey stereo in his right hand, is dressed in grey jeans and a green t-shirt that says in brown English lettering "Bad Motherfucker." Revy and Dutch take a glance at the two mobsters and burst out in laughter. Zappala sighs and says "Well Dutch…if your plan was to make your clients feel like a pair of fanooks (faggots), then mission fucking accomplished."

Revy laughs and says "Fuck you Marty! I bought Rock that shirt." Rock stares blankly at Revy and says "And there is a reason why that shirt has never left my cabin until now." Revy laughs and flips Rock the bird, saying "Kiss my ass, you fucking clown!" Zappala extends his right hand and stops Revy, saying "Might I add, we need some fucking music here. Good thing for everyone here, is that I brought a tape full of the greatest hits by Adriano Celentano. Brace yourself for the finest music that you will ever fucking hear." He sets the stereo at the edge of the deck and plays the tape, starting the song "Il Tempo Se Ne Va (Time Goes By)," by Adriano Celentano.

Dutch sighs in minor annoyance and says "Alright, we'll do it like this. Nick and I will handle the end on the right, you three on the left." Zappala nods and waves Rock and Ippolito toward the barge, the three of them climbing onto it.

Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a buttoned, collared, green shirt that is sporting a black design of rose petals, Ji-hoon Seok returns to the restaurant that he and Takahashi arranged to meet in. Wearing designer sunglasses, he raises them to his bald forehead and surveys the crowded restaurant. The restaurant is filled with various Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Laotian, and Farang patrons. He spots James Apuna, playing with egg noodles on a distant booth, the Hawaiian bodyguard tilting his head to the right. In the middle of the restaurant, Takahashi, seated by a table and dressed in a grey sports jacket and a brown undershirt, nervously stares at his legs, a black briefcase at his feet. A tall, Chinese looking woman, dressed in a black chef's attire and wearing a rice hat that is tilted over her eyes, steps toward a booth in the front of the restaurant.

Seok gives the woman a quick glance and then immediately turns toward Takahashi's table. He places his right arm on his back waist, feeling the grip of his Type 54 pistol. Blinking, Seok pulls back an empty seat at Takahashi's table and seats himself. He darts a quick glance at the briefcase by Takahashi's feet and then quickly turns around, glancing at the woman in the chef's attire. The woman appears to be conversing with a Thai looking patron, her long, black hair flowing left and right as she seems to argue with the patron. Seok, eyes still glued to the Chinese chef, turns his body back to Takahashi, who has yet to make eye contact with Seok. He turns his head straight at Takahashi and slightly looks to the left and right. "I'm waiting," Seok whispers, to which Takahashi flinches in response.

Takahashi places his left foot behind the briefcase and gently pushes it across the ground until it comes into Seok's reach. Seok smirks in satisfaction and reaches his right hand toward the briefcase. As he grasps onto the handle of the briefcase, Seok suddenly feels a forearm pushing his head face-first into the table and a second hand digging under his collared shirt. Seok shoves his left elbow back at the assailant and reaches under his shirt for his pistol. Suddenly, the assailant grasps onto Seok's right wrist and restrains Seok from drawing his sidearm, all while wrapping an arm around Seok's neck.

A terrified Seok is pulled to his feet by his assailant as a slightly tanned Filipino man, wearing a red cotton t-shirt and black shorts and sporting a faint goatee and short black hair, jumps out of his booth with a pistol in his hand, the pistol appearing to a paltik 'homemade gun' designed after the Colt M1911 with a shortened barrel. The Filipino man aims his pistol at Seok's face as Seok turns around and spots the female chef, now revealed to be Shenhua. Panicking, he jerks his head toward Takahashi, who calmly smiles at Seok. Shenhua laughs and says in Mandarin "Wǒ xiǎng zhīdào, rúguǒ tāmen dānrèn de gǒu zài dìyù lǐ (I want to know if they serve dog in hell)."

Seok fidgets violently in Shenhua's grasp, yelling in Korean "SHIBA (Fuck)! Naneun joj tten geojyo (I fucked up)!" Turning to the patrons, he pleads "Jeoleul dowajuseyo (please help me)! Help! Help! $200,000 if help! Jebal (help)!" The Filipino man laughs and says in English and Chavacano "Mongkut and Chang say hello, vos cabrona (you bitch)!" Seok fidgets violently, yelling "Mongkut?! CHANG?! SHIBA (Fuck)! SHIBA, SHIBA, SHIBA!" He screams at the top of his lungs as Shenhua drags him from behind towards the kitchen, with the Filipino man's gun in his face.

Seok cries as Shenhua shoves him head first through the door to the kitchen, yelling in Korean "JEBAL (Help)! NAN JUGGO SIPJI ANH A (I don't want to die)! JEBAL!" Dragging Seok, Shenhua shoves him into a spacious meat locker, the locker empty if not for Sawyer standing in the middle, chainsaw in hand, dressed up to her neck in an orange hazard suit. Seok cries out in fear and yells "SHIBA!" as Sawyer pulls on the chainsaw's cord. "Get door, Cesar!" Shenhua yells at the Filipino man, Cesar, as Cesar nods and turns toward the kitchen door.

Rising from his table, Takahashi snaps his fingers once and says "I appreciate your assistance in this matter. See your superiors for your compensation. You are all dismissed." Suddenly, a pair of gunshots ring out from the kitchen. A few of the hired patrons flinch as James Apuna climbs out of his booth and says "I'll check it out, ali'l (boss)."

Opening the door to the meat locker, Apuna peers inside, Nambu Type 94 in hand, hearing the sounds of a chainsaw spinning and a man screaming. He spots Cesar standing over Seok, homemade pistol in hand, watching Seok grasp his bullet ridden knees in pain. Apuna shuts the meat locker door and turns toward the dining area, saying "It's all clear, boss."

Inside the meat locker, Sawyer angles her chainsaw down, the blades perfectly vertical. Cesar, holstering his pistol on his waist, and Shenhua, tossing her hat aside, each grab one of Seok's ankles. Flanking Sawyer on each side, the two begin to drag Seok toward the chainsaw, the blades hovering right over the ground and in the patch of his crotch. Terrified out of his mind, Seok yells out "JEBAL! PLEASE HELP! HELP! HELP!"

Pushing a block of garbage into the water, Rock, Revy, and Zappala pant in exhaustion. The three of them, plus Dutch and Ippolito on the other side, have reduced the mountain of garbage to a small pile in the middle. The stereo plays "24,000 Baci" by Adriano Celentano. Leaning against the pile, Marty yells out "Hey Nicky, hear about Australia?!" Nicky raises an eyebrow and replies "The fuck you talking about?" Marty rolls his eyes and says "Melbourne! Hear anything from there?" Nicky slouches and says "What about Melbourne? Why should I be hearing anything?" Marty claws onto a block of garbage and answers "We have people there, one of the other groups. Heard things are getting a little tense there, could get wild. Bad for business…it'll make it a bitch to smuggle shit into the country." Ippolito stretches his neck and says "Oh, those guys. Nah, heard nothing."

"The 'Ndrangheta is in Australia too?" Revy asks as the three of them push a block of trash off the barge. Marty pants and says "Ah yeah. We got people there, all over the eastern seaboard. Melbourne and shit. It's part of this thing that all of our groups are trying to pull off. Circumnavigate, like Magellan and shit. Get a drug network spanning from ocean to ocean. We are in five fucking continents, and that's cause there ain't shit for us in Africa and Antarctica. That's more than the Sicilians could say, way more."

Suddenly, as the sound of a block of garbage hits the water, Dutch yells out "We got blood here!" Marty, Rock, and Revy turn to the other side of the pile, watching as Dutch and Ippolito pull and shove blocks across the deck. Picking a block up and pushing it away, Dutch and Ippolito uncover a blood-soaked corpse that has been crushed to the width of a sheet of pancakes, the face completely mutilated. "Oh shit…" Revy mutters as Rock grabs his mouth and runs to the edge of the barge, vomiting into the water. Revy laughs and says "What's the matter Rocky-boy? I thought you'd be used to the bodies by now." Rock wipes vomit off his lips and says "I was used to the bodies when they were still three-dimensional." Revy laughs again as Marty struggles to pry open a flattened jean pocket.

Fishing his hand into the pocket with some difficulty, Marty pulls out a crushed grey leather wallet. Opening the wallet, Marty spots a British Columbia driver's license that says 'Gessa, Nathaniel.' Marty sighs and says "That cocksucker actually did it. He actually made a fucking move. Damn slope eyes, didn't think Nat Gas would end up like this." Revy glares at Marty and yells "I'm standing right here you fucking greaseball!" Marty glares at the horizon and waves Revy off, saying "Ahh shut the fuck up. A good friend of mine has somehow lost his fucking width! Fuck, can't believe that the fucking gook made a play like this. You know how hard it is to find a guy that can fluently speak Vietnamese, Italian, Neapolitan, English, AND Canadian? Argh…Dutch…you, Rock, and Revy finish up with the trash. Nicky! We gonna give Ben Hur a sailor's burial. Check his pockets for any valuables, rings and shit."

Marty and Ippolito pry Nathaniel's corpse off the barge deck, starting at the tip of his legs, and drag it to the edge of the barge, leaving a slight blood trail behind. After a quick search of his pockets yield nothing of note, Marty stares at the distant horizon and sighs. Ippolito turns to Marty and asks "You sure bout dumping him here?" Marty nods and solemnly says "Yea, I'm fucking sure." "No weights? Nothing to keep him down?" Ippolito inquires further. Marty grimaces and says "Nah, sharks'll take care of him. I heard they can smell blood for miles." Ippolito slightly grimaces and pushes Nathaniel's corpse off the barge.

Nathaniel's corpse lands back first on the water, and actually floats like a duck, being carried away by the slight current. Marty sighs and draws his Beretta 92, saying "Couple of holes should let the water sink that piece of meat." The corpse begins to sink before Marty could pull the trigger. As Marty holsters his pistol, a grey reef shark surfaces, fails to gnaw onto the flattened ribs of the corpse, and then bites onto the left leg of the corpse, dragging it down. Ippolito blinks and says "Well we don't have to worry about that body turning up on some beach, that's for sure."

Pushing a block of trash toward the edge of the barge, along with Dutch and Revy, Rock pensively says "He fed that corpse to the sharks." "So?" Dutch inquires, wiping sweat off his forehead. Heaving the block of trash pass the edge of the barge and into the ocean, Rock sarcastically says "That's a nice thing to do for a good friend. I am sure that his friend would have appreciated the gesture had he known in advance." Dutch stretches his neck and says "I'd don't see the big deal. That guy is dead. His body is a piece of meat. Doesn't matter in the end."

Rock forces a laugh and turns to Revy, saying "So Revy, would you just toss my body overboard?" Revy forces a laugh as well and says "Look at it this way, Rock. Just…well…okay, I have an idea. Name the three most likely ways that you think you are going to die…be realistic." Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know…gunshot wound, blown to pieces, and lung cancer? No…drowning, not lung cancer. I would say drowning is third." Revy laughs once and asks "With those three scenarios in mind, how likely do you think that we'd get our hands on your fucking body?" Rock smiles and says "You didn't answer my question." Revy looks at Dutch, who is catching a breather, and then at Rock. Pensively, she looks down and says "No, I wouldn't just toss you over if I could help it." Dutch overhears this and shrugs, saying "Hmm."

Marty suddenly approaches the three, arms behind his head, visibly disheveled. Exhaling a deep breath, he says "We are heading to Surat Thani…to Ko Samui island. Southwest Thailand. There's something that I've been meaning to pick up from a contact there but I've been delaying. Didn't think that it would come to this…motherfucker. Just to fill you all in now, there's this guy in Vietnam. He's the head honcho at this major newspaper. It's the 2nd most distributed newspaper in Vietnam, and the guy himself is connected to the government like dingle berries on an asshole. I've been kicking money up to people in Vietnam, but not this guy's people, and this guy's people happen to be the Vietnamese Fucking Secret Police. Given all this, I'd say that we're going to be getting very comfortable for the next week or..."

Dutch raises his right hand and stops Marty, saying "Hold on. We are being paid to empty this barge, not to follow you on a rat race all over Vietnam. If you want our help, we have to talk payment, and 2 grand isn't going to cut it. Otherwise, we are heading back to Roanapur and calling it a day." "Alright! Alright! We'll talk cash. Just first, get this shit wrapped up and back in Vietnam. Nicky and I will stow away on your boat, all take a cruise to Ko Samui. Gas is on me, consider it a taxi fare if nothing else comes out. You three will like Ko Samui, it's a classy beach place. Real quiet like, got a bit of everything," Marty says, to which Dutch nods in agreement. Exhaling and pulling his hair back, Marty turns to Ippolito and says "Fuck I could use a bump right now."

Inside his office, Takahashi, dressed as he was earlier, sits on a chair and folds his arms on his desk. He glares at Songxie silently, the latter dressed in a dark green and black diamond patterned shirt and dark blue jeans. Sighing, Songxie says "Again, I sorry Takahashi. I put you in risk, but it work out. Reaction had to be real, you know?" Takahashi removes his glasses and grabs a piece of cloth. Cleaning the lens with a slightly annoyed demeanor, he says "Seok is now irrelevant, so I will move past this now. I am more concerned with this security leak that I have not been told of until a few days ago."

Songxie smiles in relief and says "I work on it. Sent Reynolds on job. He brought some people to help, people he trust. Narrowing down list." Takahashi places his glasses back on and leans forward, interested. He asks "The people that have yet to be cleared…do they have access to the production? Are there any trade secrets that could be compromised?" Songxie shakes his head and says "Nah, only access to distribution. Gonna change a few routes, a few dead drops. None of these work in factory."

Takahashi calmly nods and blankly asks "How many left on the list?" Songxie pulls out a red pack of Skittles from his right jean pocket and says "Four. Two…what you call…haoles? People from mainland America. Harvey Vuković and Steven Alderson, both from California, both work in shipping from Roanapur to Mexico. A Hawaiian, Russell Keawe, he works security in transport over here. And that guy from Hong Kong that you hire, that Wei Huang guy." Takahashi stares at Songxie, taken aback, and says "Wei? The manager of my Tiwanon Avenue store? Do you believe that he is the leak?"

Songxie tears off a corner of the pack and pours a few Skittles into his right hand. Dropping them into his mouth, three at a time, he chews and mumbles out "I don't know. That why I put Reynolds on job. We know in few days." Takahashi shakes his head and says "All four potential security leaks come with heavy consequences. No matter what happens, we will have to alter everything. Not just distribution routes…we will also have to alter our shipping schedules to Mexico and our drop offs with our distribution partners." Songxie downs a few more Skittles and says "Take it easy, it's being done."

Takahashi scans the walls of his office. Looking at his diploma, he says "Seok's body is being disposed in a place where the Koreans could easily find it. I left that duty to Chang's assassins. I would prefer that we and the Koreans could reach an understanding over this mess…but a gang war seems possible. I would rather that the war be won before it is even fought." Songxie shakes his head and says "No, we leave the Koreans alone. Koreans friends with Hotel Moscow. We fight Yong-sun Baek and he bring Balalaika. Chang step in, Nigerians in Bangkok step in, everyone kill other, police start crackdown. Koreans know this. They back off, trust me. They know we in the right." Takahashi nods solemnly and says "That appears to be so. I understand…we won't cast the first stone. Still, we must be on our guard, especially after this pest is dealt with." Songxie nods and says "I agree."

Takahashi scratches his nose and sighs, saying "We should stop distributing from our groceries and supermarkets. I say that we develop some distance between the drugs and the front companies. Rely solely on Kamol, Mongkut, and Kaeo for local distribution." Songxie picks out a few orange Skittles and tosses them into a trash bin, saying "If we do that, people lose job. I say we gotta fire all dealers, all six. They might talk…" Takahashi shakes his head and says "We'll negotiate something with our distributors. All six of the dealers are Roanapur locals, they should probably feel even more comfortable in the employment of our distributors. Common language." Songxie nods and says "That true."

Inside the Bougainville Trading Company, Freddy Viapiano, dressed in a light brown sweater with a single red horizontal stripe across the middle and beige slacks, climbs out of his seat, his phone ringing. He is inside a lounge area, on the side of the coffee table that's facing a window. On the other side of the table, Balalaika, dressed in her red dress suit, Boris, dressed in a black vest, a dark blue collared undershirt, and dark blue slacks, and Baretsky, dressed in a pink and white horizontally striped polo and black slacks, all watch as Viapiano takes a break in negotiations. Looking at the caller id, Viapiano restraints a sigh and turns to the three Russians, saying "Sorry bout this, call twice means I gotta take it. Won't be long."

Viapiano excuses himself and steps out of the lounge, walking toward a bathroom. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, Viapiano turns to his cell phone and puts it to his ear. "Freddy?" Marty says, leaning against the exterior wall in an alleyway, with Black Lagoon Company and Ippolito conversing amongst themselves on the nearby sidewalk. Rolling his eyes, Viapiano says "I'm in fucking talks right now. I said not to call at this time, so either say something important or I'm putting you on silent."

Marty kicks an empty can of Pepsi across the alleyway and says "Kirk Douglas has been found on the way to Gaul." Viapiano pauses for a few seconds to process Marty's comment. An incredulous look on his face, Viapiano stares directly at an overhead lamp until he closes his eyes in discomfort. Sitting down on a toilet lid, Viapiano musters out "Why are you speaking in non-specifics right now?" Marty grimaces and says "Well, you know. Just to be on the safe side." Viapiano musters a few sarcastic chuckles and yells out "You stupid polack, we are on our fucking cell phones! IN THAILAND!"

Marty shakes his head in annoyance and says "Easy boss. It's just an old habit that I picked up in Canada." "Well we ain't in Canada. Where the fuck are you? And what's this about Kirk Douglas?" Viapiano replies, irritated. Marty quickly replies "I'm in Ko Samui with Nicky. We are here to pick up that thing that I've been meaning to get. From that Roscoe guy that I mentioned. We cleaned out the barge and brought it back to dock, but we had a…discovery during the waste dumping."

Viapiano grinds his teeth and says "I'm waiting…" Marty gives a quick glance to Black Lagoon Company, who are all taking a cigarette break. Scratching the back of his head, Marty answers "Spartacus, aka Gessa. We found him under the garbage, missing a dimension. Me thinks that the newspaper man Chù Thanh Hoàng and his friends in the Tổng Cục Tình Báo (General Department of Military Intelligence) have something to do with this. I haven't gotten back into our 'recycling' facility yet. I've already given Tuyết a call. She has the facility on lock down and is sending her muscle to run low-key surveillance on Chù and his associates. I also hired Black Lagoon Company for an extra week, 36 grand out of my pocket. Nothing else for you, boss. Next time you and I gonna talk, I'm probably gonna be in 'Nam. Good luck." Marty hangs up the phone as Viapiano nods in understanding, preparing himself for another round of negotiations.

Pocketing his cell phone, Marty claps his hands together and cracks his fingers. He steps out of the alleyway and approaches the group of five, all as they were dressed on the boat with the exception of Revy, who has put on her blue tracksuit, stashing her guns in the pockets. Marty extends his arms out, as if he is ready to embrace all five of them, and then suddenly claps his hands together, catching everyone's attention. He says "Alright, that last call was Freddy getting the heads-up. The one before that was Tuyết. She runs security for us. Now, we all got motel rooms, nice motel rooms, lined up for the week. It's in Nha Trang, like 300 miles from Rạch Giá, but I have places to dock the boat in both cities, so we don't gotta drive 10 hours each day. Now, Nha Trang is like the Miami of Indochina, and the owners are gonna need some extra for letting us store guns, so it's going to be $200 a night, each. That good?"

Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "It sounds good and all…but what exactly are we doing here in Thailand then? What are we picking up?" Marty turns in front of Dutch and heads down the sidewalk, motioning the rest to follow. "We are meeting a contact of mine. I found him on the grapevine…this ex-military guy that smuggles in special items from Vietnam once in a blue moon. I found out that he's got genuine uniforms and combat attires from the Vietnamese Secret Police, aka the Tổng Cục II. He mentioned that he was an ex-marine that deserted from the U.S. near the end of the 'Nam War," Marty explains, to which Dutch replies with "Hn."

The group approaches a blue colored surf shop titled 'R. W.'s Surf' in red lettering on an awning. "R.W.? Nah, can't be," Dutch mutters loud enough for Revy and Rock to hear. The two give each other a confused glance and return to silence. Marty approaches the door to the surf shop and swings it open, waving Dutch and Co. inside. Dutch takes the first step inside, glancing at a few surf boards and banana boats before turning his attention to the slightly dark-brown skinned owner of the store as his world slows to a crawl before him. The owner, appearing to be skinny and slightly shorter then Revy, is dressed in a light-beige collared, buttoned shirt, forest green shorts, and grey sandals. Clean shaven with a cleft, round chin, and sporting short, black hair and a faint scar diagonally across his left eyebrow, he tilts his silver-framed eyeglasses up, squints, and puts them back on. Chuckling twice, he says "I'd say I've been hallucinating, but I haven't touched that stuff since Cambodia. Marion DeVries-Savage, in the flesh and blood…it's been...almost twenty years."

"Roscoe…Ward? Is…Roscoe…well…I have to say that you look well after…" Dutch mumbles out, otherwise frozen in shock. Revy glares at Roscoe, who's voice is so hoarse that it makes Marty's voice sound angelic, and then at Dutch, and asks "You two know each other?" Roscoe smirks and nods, saying "Damn right we know each other. We knew each other since Grand River High School back in Detroit. The craziness that we been through…Oakland, Vietnam…Cambodia…" Benny remembers Shane Caxton's suspicions on Dutch's military service and says "Cambodia? Dutch, I thought you fought in Vietnam." Roscoe eyes Benny and the others, and says "Dutch? You keeping the name that Lo Chan called you?"

Dutch glares at Roscoe, who suddenly gets the message. Roscoe grimaces and says "A'ight there. I'll let you tell them on your own time." Marty claps his hands together and says "I'm all for this veteran's reunion and all but Roscoe and I got business to take care of. So, if you all fuck on out of the way…" Marty and Ippolito step toward the rear of the surf shop as Roscoe solemnly nods and says "I'll catch up with you after this."

Dutch watches Roscoe, Marty, and Ippolito step out of the back of the store and onto a beach, the three slowly approaching the shoreline. His mouth agape in shock, he finally musters the energy to sigh as decades of life and pain flash before him. Revy simply snickers to herself and asks "Your real name is Marion? No way…"

Dutch bellows a deep sigh and turns to Revy, saying "Do not call me Marion again. Ever. Eh…I suppose you all got a million questions and it's only going to be resolved with me answering them. Roscoe and I…we met in high school in Detroit and…well…I basically ruined his life."

He leans against the store counter and removes his sunglasses, putting them in his left pant pocket. Swimming through millions of thoughts in his head, Dutch, after several seconds, ultimately continues "I was young, and I was a bit too full of anger…and I was…well after I made him read the book, Roscoe called me 'Don Quixote with a shotgun.' I was very naïve, and every single time that it got good for Roscoe and I…well…I found some excuse to get us into more trouble. That eventually got me enlisting the both of us in the U.S. Marines with the intention of deserting them and defecting into a Maoist Utopia, as I called it. Well, after defecting, we weren't exactly welcomed by the Vietnamese, and so we ended up nearly starving in the jungles. Laos wasn't exactly so welcoming for similar reasons as in Vietnam, so we eventually stumbled into Cambodia. We actually helped the Khmer Rouge in a few engagements during the battle of Phnom Penh. I felt like Che Guevara himself until the government put the two of us in a military prison. There…I won't go into that today…not today…but eventually after destroying every good thing that was going for us, I got the two of us to break out, commandeered a U.S. patrol boat that was in Cambodia, my guess is that some SOG operatives ended up wiped out in Cambodia and the Rouge captured the boat and the U.S. kept quiet, and…well after all that…I dropped Roscoe off in Jakarta and I tried to forget about him for his own safety."

"Holy shit…I…wow I don't know what to say," Benny musters out, as he, Revy, and Rock stare in shock and amazement. Revy thinks of something to say, and then mutters "So…that patrol boat…that's the Lagoon?" Dutch turns his head to Revy, grimaces, and nods once. Looking down on the wooden floor, Dutch says "Ditching Roscoe in Jakarta was…well…what I thought was the most merciful thing that I ever did in my life. The guy has every reason to hate and despise my guts…hell I'd shoot myself if I was him. I pretty much destroyed any chance of him having a normal life…put him through things that no human should ever be put through…yet here he is…after so many years…and he's not even angry at me for leaving him in Indonesia all by himself. Some people…some…I need a break. Excuse me." Dutch steps out of the front entrance of the surf shop and onto the sidewalk. Revy taps Rock's shoulder and asks "The fuck you think is eating him up? Never seen Dutch like this." Rock simply shrugs his shoulders. Revy turns to Benny, who waves in protest and says "I'm as freaked out as you are."

Turning right, he walks aimlessly, his eyes glued to the ground. He reaches into his pocket for a pack of Natural American Spirit. Fishing a cigarette out, he pockets the pack and attempts to place the cigarette in his mouth. Suddenly, a few drops hit the sidewalk, a track of tears left behind…a track of decades of guilt and pain buried underground. The island of Ko Samui is silent except for the palm trees swaying in the breeze and the faint whimpering from Dutch as he stumbles off the sidewalk and onto a field of grass, the sand and the shoreline several meters away. His entire body shaking in stress and pain, he attempts to maneuver the cigarette into his mouth, only to suddenly crush the cigarette in his hands. Engulfed in guilt, he slaps his right fist several times into his forehead, tobacco falling out of his hand and onto his shirt. Finally stepping onto the sand, he leaves a few footprints and a couple of tears on the beach before erupting into an ear-splitting wail and a lifetime of suppressed grief.


	4. And We Almost Lost Rạch Giá, This Time

A white Ford Telstar hatchback sits parked in front of a light blue five story building that has the phrase 'Nhật Báo Đông Dương (The Indochina Daily)' on the side of the building facing the street, at the very top. Nestled right next to the middle of the sidewalk on Hùng Vương Road in the Vietnamese city of Cần Thơ, the Telstar idles away as armadas of mopeds zip through the streets, flanked by the occasional car or commercial truck. Inside the hatchback, a 40-something aged light skinned Vietnamese woman dressed in a red and white polka dot collared dress shirt and jeans, sporting long black hair flowing past her shoulders and a deep scar across her left cheek, as well as a small chunk of cartilage missing from the top of her left ear, and a 40-something aged dark skinned Cambodian man, dressed in a blue collared dress shirt and brown shorts, sporting an extremely faint goatee and wavy black hair combed to the side, each sit patiently and spy on the building. The Vietnamese woman, in the driver's seat, adjusts her pair of thick framed eyeglasses and says "Khá yên tĩnh cho đến nay (Pretty quiet so far)."

The Cambodian man yawns loudly and stretches his arms out, slouched in the front side passenger seat. Licking his lips once, he says in Vietnamese "Tôi khát quá (I'm thirsty). Tôi gần như có thể mơ ước bia ngay bây giờ (I can almost dream of beer right now)." The Vietnamese woman eyes her rear view mirror, spotting a female Vietnamese cop at the distant street corner, dressed in the usual green military cap and attire that Vietnamese cops wear, writing a traffic citation for an unmarked grey van. The Vietnamese woman in the hatchback seethes and says "Đụ (fuck)! Cảnh sát giao… góc phố (traffic police…street corner). Vibol, bạn có nhìn thấy cô ấy (Vibol, do you see her)?" Vibol turns around and looks through the rear window, saying "Tôi thấy cô ấy, Ngoc. Tôi thấy cô ấy (I see her, Ngoc. I see her)."

Ngoc takes out a pair of binoculars and focuses on the entrance to the Indochina Daily headquarters. A pair of Vietnamese men in black suits exit the building, each flanked by a pair of suit and earpiece wearing bodyguards. One of the Vietnamese men, average height and appearing to be somewhat past his 50s, his once short black hair now partially gray, shakes hands with the other, the latter appearing to be taller and a decade younger. A bodyguard rushes in front of the two and opens the door to a black Toyota Land Cruiser. The taller Vietnamese man enters the vehicle, followed by the shorter Vietnamese man. As a bodyguard shuts the rear passenger door, a pair of bodyguards open the front doors and climb inside. Ngoc smirks and says "Chù Thanh Hoàng…ông đã bước vào SUV (Chù Thanh Hoàng…he just entered the SUV). Ông đã số người bạn mới…(He has some new friends…)."

Vibol gives Ngoc a confused stare and says "Cái quái gì (What the hell)? Đó không phải là anh trai của mình (That is not his brother)?" Ngoc turns to Vibol and gives him an annoyed look, yelling "Bạn mù (You blind)?! Ông là một bàn chân cao hơn Chủ (He was a foot taller than Chủ)!" Suddenly, the female Vietnamese cop approaches Ngoc's rolled down window, causing Ngoc to hide her binoculars under her legs. The cop, who appears to be in her early 20s, comes into view of Ngoc and Vibol and says "Bạn cần phải rời khỏi (You need to leave). Đây là làn đường cho người đi xe đạp (This is the lane for cyclists)."

As the Toyota Land Crusier drives off, Vibol eyes the cop with sheepish eyes, almost fawning at the mouth. Ngoc awkwardly smiles and nods, saying "Được (Okay). Cảm ơn (Thanks)." She sets the hatchback into drive and enters the main driving lane of Hùng Vương Road. Vibol laughs and says "Cô ấy nên có trên poster tuyển dụng (She should be on a recruitment poster)." Ngoc shakes her head in annoyance and says "Bạn đang đi để bước trên lưỡi của bạn (You are going to step on your tongue)." As Vibol laughs in amusement, Ngoc orders "Gọi Tuyết (Call Tuyết). Nói với cô ấy rằng Trung không phải là với anh trai của mình (Tell her that Trung was not with his brother). Một cái gì đó là lạ ở đây (Something is strange here)."

Standing in front of a bus terminal as the sun is completing its ascent, Dutch, dressed in his usual green flak jacket and green pants attire, sighs and places a SIM card into his cell phone. He looks around, surveying the Vietnamese city of Rạch Giá. Standing on the crossroad of Giao lộ Trần Phú Street and Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm Road, he takes in the sound of mopeds accelerating after each hard turn, glancing at his cell phone to find that the time is 11:12 A.M. As Rock, Benny, Revy, and Marty all crowd and chat several meters away, Dutch dials a number and waits, his neck sweating. Suddenly, he hears a voice in the phone, saying "Hello?"

Dutch grimaces and says "It's me Roscoe. Marion. We didn't have much time to talk yesterday." Roscoe, in his surf shop, dressed as he was yesterday, responds "Yea, we didn't. All I got was that you now do 'international transportation' in that Roanapur city. Crazy shit how we both ended up in Thailand." Dutch laughs and says "Yea, guess that's how it goes. I didn't quite get what you do for a living. That surf shop…you the owner?" Roscoe replies "Yea, helps pay the bills." Dutch glances at Marty and says "And what of this work you doing with our Canadian friend over here?" Roscoe laughs and says "Don't worry Dutch, we ain't in competition. I just hear something from friends in Vietnam, and if the money justifies the risk, I bring the stuff into Thailand. I do this once a year, twice a year, once every two years, around that. In case I want to get something very nice for my old lady."

Dutch arcs his back and says "Congratulations." Roscoe chuckles and says "It ain't THAT serious. No ring and all. We just been sharing a room for the past seven years." Dutch laughs and says "I'd say that that's pretty serious." The two chuckle and pause into awkward silence. After a minute of silence, Dutch seethes in guilt and says "Look, Roscoe. I know things have gotten fucked up long ago." Roscoe blankly stares into space and says "Yeah, and Barry Sanders is a pretty decent running back." Dutch flinches and grimaces, looking left and right. He whispers into his phone and says "Look! Do you need money? Or work? Real work, I can get you a well paying job. You don't have to live in a cramped apartment or wherever you live. I can help you." Roscoe frowns and says in annoyance "I…thanks for the offer, but believe me, I'm good. Thanks, but I'm good." Dutch ignores Roscoe's rejection and continues "Listen, me and my crew, we make good money. Four all in all. For this week, we are each getting 9 grand in U.S. money for a job. I can make room for a fifth crew member, hear me out." Roscoe shakes his head and seethes, hiding his anger as he replies "Again, thanks for the offer, but it ain't happening." After a second, Roscoe continues and lies "I got a customer coming in, talk to you some other time. Good luck with whatever your doing." Dutch solemnly nods and replies "Yeah, thanks. Good luck with the surf shop." He hears Roscoe hang up his cell phone, and pockets his own cell phone in response.

Shaking his head, Dutch adjusts his sunglasses and walks toward Black Lagoon Company. He notices Benny, dressed in an old, purple FSU Seminoles t-shirt, blue jeans, and grey sandals, Revy, dressed in her blue tracksuit and black boots, smoking a cigarette, Rock, dressed in his black and white plaid dress shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes, also smoking a cigarette, and Marty, dressed in brown sandals, beige shorts, and his 'Fraser River Port Authority' t-shirt worn inside out. Dutch turns to Marty and says "Thanks, we're good to go."

Marty lets out an annoyed sigh and says "Feels like I'm working for you, not the other way around." He turns around to a grey second generation Ford Explorer and opens the front side passenger door. Revy takes a final drag of her cigarette and tosses it on the ground, as Rock follows suit. Marty steps in as Black Lagoon Company crowd themselves in the back, with Nicky Ippolito behind the wheel, dressed as he was yesterday. After a struggle, Dutch turns to his crew and says "One of you's sitting in the trunk. You figure it out." Rock barters "Hey Benny, you take the trunk and I'll let you watch the Orange Dish." Dutch and Benny burst out into hysterical laughter as Marty asks "What's so funny?"

Wiping tears of laughter off his eyes, Benny says "Rock, it's called the 'ORANGE BOWL'." Marty, getting the joke, starts cracking up as well. Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "Whatever, the Orange Bowl." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Only college football I know is the Volunteers, and that's from my years in Tennessee. Don't really give a shit about non-professional sports." Dutch, Benny, and Rock each turn to Revy and glare in confusion, as Benny asks "Since when did you live in Tennessee?" "Long-ass story," Revy replies. Marty reaches his threshold and yells "Are you four this fucking stunatz (dense)?! Can we get this fucking shit going already?! PLEASE?!" Dutch sighs and says "Benny, as your boss…" Benny sighs and says "Alright, Dutch. Alright." He climbs into the spacious, empty trunk as Ippolito sets the car into drive.

"Wait a minute," Benny remarks from the trunk "we aren't going back to the office, so you won't be giving up the TV, Rock." Rock laughs and says "Dutch ordered you to sit in the trunk. I don't owe you any favors." Benny shakes his head and annoyingly smiles, saying "Guess you won't be joining me for drinks after midnight. Here's hoping there's at least one bar showing the bowl game." Rock blankly stares out the window and says "I'm probably spending the night in the hotel. You, Revy, and Dutch could find a bar in the city." Revy stares at Rock, slightly concerned. After a pause, she shakes Rock's statement off and turns to Zappala, saying "Hey Marty. The hell we here to do, anyway?"

As the car passes an intersection, Marty speaks out "Alright, guess now's as good a time as any. See here, there's this press boss here in Vietnam. His name is Chù Thanh Hoàng, and he's been having a raging hard on for me and my business since I got here. This guy has heavy connections with politicians in the red party and his twin brother is a high level official in the Tổng Cục 2, also known as the Second General Department. And more informally known as the Vietnamese Secret Police. Now I've been working with this serious officer in the Vietnamese Army…I keep a nice paper trail into his pocket, and he stays in mine. That army guy then 'socializes' the wealth with his friends and superiors, giving me more breathing room. Now, I have no fucking idea what is going on politically in this crazy country, but I'm guessing that the secret police and the military ain't on the best of terms. That's my guess. So either Chù, his brother, and their clowns are just trying to squeeze me for dollars, or there is something else going on. The new General Secretary, Phiêu Khả Lê, is heavy in the army…3 star general and all that. Maybe Chù and company are scared of losing some clout…I don't know. What I do know is that the guy has been having cops harass me and my men and has made some subtle articles published in the papers…like about seizing property from new investors and about foreign organized crime."

"That's it? A few news articles? How are you even sure that it is Chù doing all this?" Dutch inquires. Marty thinks for a second, looks out the front side passenger window, and says "Some time before Luca was preparing his little vacation in Roanapur, Gessa and I finished ironing out the details for the drug smuggling part of this racket. This was back in August, in 97. By that time, I had my military connect in my back pocket and have been working the recycling part of the racket since 96. Seems like Chù took a sniff, because a couple of weeks after we was getting coke into the country, in late August, he comes up to me…demanding a 'hospitality tax'. In my head, I was thinking 'fuck, I'm already paying my military connect 40% so he could spread the love with his friends, now this shrimp dick is trying to squeeze me?' I told him to eat shit. Later came the articles, then the local pigs start harassing Tuyết and her muscle, then I get word from Tuyết that our deliveries from Vancouver have been getting tailed on their way to and from Rạch Giá, probably the Tổng Cục 2. Then we had one of Tuyết's men get arrested and holed up. I'm guessing they tried to make him a rat, because two weeks ago when he came out of the station, he looked like a lawn mower ran over him. And yesterday, we found Gessa, hot off the press. So yeah, I'm pretty fucking sure that we have the right guy."

"How high up is Chù's brother in the secret police?" Dutch inquires. Marty blinks and says "He might as well be in fucking orbit." Dutch grimaces and says "See here, we are willing to do whatever you want us to do, but I have serious reservations about having four mercenaries go punch for punch with a national intelligence agency. You haven't told us what the job actually is, and I would rather know sooner than later." The car exits the city limits and proceeds onto the dirt road 'highway' known as QL 80. Marty rubs his chin and says "Well first I'm gonna verify that the factory isn't bobby trapped or some shit…and if the cameras picked up something. When they confirm what I already know…hey Dutch, you fought in Vietnam right?"

Dutch nods and says "Yeah, what about?" "Were you stationed in Saigon? Does the name Thinh Nguyễn ring a bell?" Marty inquires. Dutch shakes his head and says "Nah, I was stationed in the west. My battalion was fighting in the marshes near the Cambodian border. I never stepped foot in the city. What about this man?"

Marty turns to the back of the car and says "If you were stationed in Saigon, you'd probably know this guy. Big time gangster in South Vietnam, practically runs the traditional rackets in half the country…gambling, prostitution, drugs, and so on. He was working with the ARVN and the Americans, being a pain the ass for the VC. Then Saigon became Ho Chi Minh City and Thinh got 'reeducated', which only made him even more pissed off. Thinh and I are personal friends…so to speak, and he's been feeding me intel as a token of goodwill. Now there is this rival gangster…this Cambodian guy…Khmer…some shit like that. Van Thirith his name…major arms dealer and smuggler on the Vietnamese/Cambodian border. He's been expanding into Thinh's turf and rackets and Thinh is getting too much heat to do anything about it. In 1989, a nail bomb went off in the headquarters of the Indochina Daily, Chù's newspaper, a week after Van Thirith got an article written about him. Let's say Van Thirith didn't like the article that much. A couple of employees got fucked up and Chù took a nail to the thigh. They prosecuted but couldn't make it stick, again, bit suspicious,…and Chù's brother didn't have the power that he has now. Now the only reason that I could imagine Van Thirith still walking the streets is that he got protection from someone bigger then Chù's brother. Thinh thinks the same as well and has tagged along for this little rollercoaster ride. You see where I'm going?"

Dutch squints and says "Kind of. What exactly are you driving at here?" Marty sighs in annoyance and says "You and your crew's gonna take out Van Thirith, dressed in the same armored gear that the Tổng Cục 2 uses. Everyone, even members of the Tổng Cục 2 that don't got anything to do with newspaper man, they all are gonna pin it on Chù. Ordering summary executions on politically protected assholes that are on your shit list usually gets the wrong kind of attention. If that works, we'll go on from there. And if you're wondering, no, hitting Chù, while a lot fucking easier, is just asking for all of us to get it up the ass from the regular cops and secret cops. This got to be done right, very carefully."

Dutch shakes his head and frowns, saying "We are couriers, not assassins. I don't understand why you won't have Thinh or one of your people do the hit." Marty laughs and says "Easy…you got no connection to me. If you fuck up, it doesn't get back to me. Plausible deniability…ain't it a bitch?" Dutch shakes his head and replies in a raised voice "Are you listening to me? We aren't contract killers." Marty sighs and says "60 grand, split however you want to split it. That's 24 grand extra, 6 grand each. 15 grand split four ways." Dutch thinks for a second and says "We have the image of a courier group…" Marty snaps his fingers and says "Think of it as transporting an idea across. Van Thirith dying ain't the goal here, it's just a big piece of the plan and a little payback for my friend in Saigon." Dutch rubs his forehead and asks "How many jobs are you hiring us for? The max?" Marty thinks for a while, mumbles incoherently to himself, and says "At most, three. They are all going to require similar amounts of fucking mayhem." "Let's do it this way. You pay us 50 grand for this upcoming job, as this one is going outside our expertise. The next two jobs go for 25 grand each, for a 100 grand total if necessary," Dutch counters with an offer of his own. "Why should I pay you more for you going outside your expertise? Makes sense that I'd pay you less, actually," Marty retorts, annoyed. "Think of it as a penalty for our false advertising. We have a reputation as couriers, not contract killers. We got to maintain it," Dutch answers, sternly staring at Marty. Marty looks up, exhales a deep breath, and says "Deal, but I expect no bullshit, alright? You fuck up, and we got a problem." As Dutch and Marty shake on it, the car takes a left turn and enters a narrow dirt road leading to the coast.

Suddenly, Benny interjects, restlessly saying "I'm just a tech. I can't hold a gun." "If Marty and I are thinking the same thing, then you're our getaway driver once Thirith is dead," Dutch placates, to which Benny nervously nods in response. Marty snaps his fingers again and says "Benny, that your name, right? You and Nicky here are going to be on the torpedo boat in case you all gonna need to lay low at sea. Can't think of a better place to disappear in, if you can dodge the coast guard. You know how to work the controls, right?" Benny looks at Dutch, who nods in approval. Turning back to Marty, Benny says "Alright, that works. I got it." "I don't give a shit if you want to be the driver…just someone's gotta bring the boat in for a real escape. Figured you don't like strangers in charge of your boat, Dutch," Marty replies. Dutch waves Marty off and says "I got no problems with this setup." Ippolito turns right on a dirt road and checks the rear view mirror for any cars. Satisfied that he wasn't followed, Ippolito says "Hear that Benny-boy? You and me's gonna get familiar. You got a TV on the boat? I didn't see one last time." Marty glares at Ippolito and says "It's a fucking boat! What do you think?!"

Suddenly, the Ford Explorer enters an open field of grass, the factory in sight. A three floor brick facility with giant windows on every one of its walls, the 'recycling depot' casts a deep shadow on the nearby coastline, roasting under an Indochinese sun that is preparing its descent. The Ford Explorer approaches a large patch of dirt next to facility, a red x drawn on the patch. The car parks and its occupants exit, with a Marty and Ippolito exiting first and Black Lagoon Company following suit. Ippolito opens the trunk of the car and allows Benny to climb out, and the six turn their attention to the factory, which is, for some bizarre reason, blasting the soundtrack to the 1960's film 'Spartacus'. A Vietnamese woman approaches the group, wearing a beige collared polo, a pair of forest green camouflage designed cargo pants, and chocolate colored sandals. She has long, black hair tied into a ponytail, slightly light skin, a skinny face, and a large, circular scar on her left cheek, appearing as if she was once shot in the cheek. She is carrying a Madsen M50 submachine gun in her hands, the gun in a sling around her neck.

"Tuyết, what the fuck is that noise?!" Marty inquires with a perplexed look on his face, pointing at the factory with his right hand. Tuyết blankly looks at Marty and says "Gessa always wanted to put that stupid movie on the loudspeaker. I think he got what he wanted before he ended up killed. Follow." Marty, Ippolito, and Black Lagoon Company follow into a side entrance to the factory. Twisting the metal knob on the metal door, Tuyết enters the facility with the rest of the group behind her. As Rock takes a glimpse of the 'factory' floor, he asks "Shouldn't we need gas masks or goggles?" Tuyết turns to a staircase and quickly responds "The place has been shut down since closing time two days ago, before Gessa was killed. You're going to be fine."

"Wait a minute, so this fucking music has been going on a loop for two days straight?" Marty inquires, raising an eyebrow. Taking her first step on the staircase, Tuyết replies "Yea, for two days. If it was any closer to the city, I would have cut the music to prevent any noise complaints, but I thought that you'd like to inspect the place as it was when I left it two days ago." Heading up the stairs with the rest of the group, Marty asks "You left before Gessa, right? No one else was in the factory?" Tuyết shakes her head and turns to a second flight of stairs heading to the second floor. "Any breaking and entering?" Marty inquires further, following Tuyết up the stairs. "I checked one of the locks on the door. It was clearly picked," Tuyết answers.

Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "Picked? Why? These are supposed to secret agents, right? The windows are open…they could climb through them or some shit." "The walls are completely vertical and the bricks ain't easy to climb on. They would be a bitch to climb without grappling equipment. They do probably have access to that stuff, so that is a good point," Marty answers, thinking to himself. The seven, with Tuyết in the lead, continue up the stairs, this time to the third floor. Starting to grunt in exhaustion, Rock asks "Why don't you have a chain link fence around the perimeter?" Tuyết laughs and says "Nói thì dễ hơn làm (easier said than done). If we put up a chain link fence, that is practically saying we have something to hide. It is just asking for needling from the cops." "And the constant emission of toxic gas isn't enough warning already?" Rock sarcastically inquires. "This is a country where people in cities are starting to wear smog masks on a daily basis, as well as a country that only started to believe in private businesses a decade ago. Believe me, the officials are more worried about 'fences' then toxic gas," Tuyết replies, reaching the third floor of the facility.

Tuyết fishes a key out and unlocks the door to the rest of the third floor. As she twists the knob and pushes the door open, the soundtrack music increases by several decibels and Tuyết, Rock, and Benny all grimace and cover their ears. "Yeah, installing a loudspeaker in the security office…not my brightest moment," Marty frankly mutters, stepping into the security office. He spots several monitors on a desk, all shot, as well as a dashboard. Blood patterns the wooden floor, and several 9mm shell casings idle next to a few blood drops. "Tuyết, how do you work the loudspeaker?" Marty asks, annoyed from the loud music. "CÁI GÌ (WHAT)?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Tuyết yells back, covering her ears, her Madsen 50 swaying from side to side. "Fuck it," Marty mutters, drawing a Beretta 92 and firing a bullet into the loudspeaker, killing all the noise on the third floor.

At his bearings, Marty scans the room further and points his gun at the ceiling. "Camera's been shot. This is some strange shit…what the hell they were trying to do?" he speaks to himself, twirling the barrel of his pistol in circles. After a pause, he points at the monitors and says "Check to see if the security tapes are still there." The Vietnamese head of security adjusts the sling of her submachine gun and steps toward the security desk. Pressing a couple of buttons, she extracts a VHS tape. She sets it aside and works on another VHS tape, extracting that one as well. Pulling out five tapes, she says "Five tapes and five cameras, nothing missing. If this is the Tổng Cục Tình Bá, they did a sloppy job." Marty holsters his pistol and says "Yeah, sounds like someone panicked." "I think so to but we need to view these tapes. Anyone have a VCR?" Tuyết replies and asks, staring at Black Lagoon Company.

Dutch turns to Benny and asks "Do we have a VCR on the Lagoon?" Benny nods and says "Yeah, but without a TV, we can't play the tapes." Tuyết turns her attention to the dashboard and tinkers with a few buttons, shutting off the loudspeakers. "Now that we are back to the 20th century…" she says, scratching her neck. She turns to Marty and says "Gessa had one of those small TVs. Although after walking into his office once without knocking…you might want to wipe them down." "Not going into my quarters until it gets sanitized!" Benny yells out, to which Ippolito, Rock, and Revy all snicker in response.

Inside Benny's quarters on the Lagoon, Benny inserts a tape into a VCR with Marty and Tuyết right behind him. Ippolito and the rest of Black Lagoon Company converses in the adjacent lounge quarters of the boat as Benny squints at the TV screen. "You wiped this down? Right?" Benny asks, staring at Tuyết indignantly. Tuyết removes her Madsen M50 and sets it on the wall behind her. She turns to Benny and says "That one was still in the box." Benny raises his eyebrow and says "O…kay. Playing the first tape…ground floor…front entrance camera…you know these cameras are useless when the floor is full of smoke, right?" Marty, Tuyết, and Benny glue their eyes to the screen as Tuyết explains "The smog is thin enough for cameras to see through."

After a few seconds, Marty commands "Fast forward to 7 P.M. and run it four times faster." "Y'all got it," Benny replies, complying with Marty's request.

In the adjacent room, Rock, Revy, Dutch, and Ippolito all lounge in the lobby of the Lagoon, with Rock and Revy sitting on a narrow sofa facing a coffee table and Dutch and Ippolito sitting on the opposite, identical sofa. "Nice place you got here, Dutch. Good call on getting this lobby thing with the boat. The fuck you found a patrol boat?" Ippolito inquires, curious. "I was fleeing Cambodia after a smuggling gig gone wrong…found this boat in a base. This was back when Pol Pot was in power. I think some special forces from the U.S. fucked up a mission there and their boat got captured. I guess I had a duty to recapture it," Dutch answers, weaving some truth into his lie.

"You're from Canada? Italy?" Rock inquires, sipping on a can of Heineken. Ippolito stares blankly at Rock and says "I'm from Toronto, born and raised. 2nd generation Canadian." "And Marty? If you don't mind me asking," Rock inquires further. Marty glances at the door to Benny's workplace, and then at Rock, saying "Marty is half Italian, half Polish, he'd tell you that himself. He's actually from the U.S. From Seattle, Washington. He moved to Vancouver later."

"Where did he learn so much about shipping and running a business?" Rock inquires further, to which Dutch raises an eyebrow. Ippolito turns to Dutch and says "Trust me, Marty's my boss and he knows what he is doing. He worked in the U.S. Merchant Navy for while, and then worked with in a longshoreman union…he knows shipping. As for business management, he and Gessa worked the recycling racket together, with Tuyết Lại running security. That Vietnamese woman next door. Back in Vancouver, me, Marty, and Gessa were all working in the same crew for this racket involving smuggling alcohol past customs without paying excise taxes. Gessa, despite being a total fucking oddball, was sharp in management and that's what he did, until 'you know what' happened. Back in Vancouver, we were all working under Luca Cavalcanti, whom you all know. Just saying, I got no love loss for that piece of shit."

Revy reaches toward the coffee table and grabs an unopened can of Heineken. She opens the beer and takes a sip, asking afterwards "Are you guys designed like the Sicilian Mafia? I heard that the 'Ndrangheta does things differently." Ippolito laughs and says "When you are boss, you could do whatever the fuck you want to do. Our former boss in Vancouver, Philip Avallone, was sent from Toronto into Vancouver to get coke pushed through the Western Canadian border into the states. Phil only came with four people from Toronto to set this up, so he set his own hierarchy based off the Sicilians. It's his call, and he liked the kickback gimmick, gives incentive to be a good earner. He basically set up three crews and compartmentalized them, one works drugs, one works gun smuggling, and one does money laundering and scams. Each crew had a captain. Problem is, there aren't THAT many Italians living in Vancouver that were willing to do this kind of work. I mean there was no fucking incentive to risk getting arrested or killed, cause we haven't been producing shit at that point. There was that one time where Freddy VIP got arrested for carrying MP5s around in his car. After serving a few years in the can, he recruited half a dozen on the way back to civilization, but that was a one time thing. To make matters worse, two of the four people that Phil came with…were Luca and that fucked up Giuseppe Zicarelli guy. Phil had no fucking desire to make either of them captain, so he put Freddy…you know Freddy, on one crew and left the other two crews vacant. Worst shit is, Eastern Canada got all the zips from Italy, forcing us to recruit locally. Phil had to pull people from Toronto and Montreal to fill up the crews cause there was almost no one reliable to hire. One of those guys was me. You see, the Sicilians have a strict policy of keeping only Sicilians in the organization, or so I heard, but in Phil's case, there was no one to hire. So we ended up putting in half-Italians into the organization as long as their dads were Italian. Now Marty's dad is Polish, so that made it a problem when Marty, while working under Luca, was making more than some of the 'made' guys combined. I mean, this recycling racket…it's pulled in over $11 mil back in 97…crazy money. Marty and Gessa were kicking money up to Luca and Luca was raking in crazy cash. So at that point, Phil had to make a call…either kick up a psychotic serial killer into a captain's role or make a guy who's name is Martin Rzewski. Phil ended up making Marty after Marty promised to change his last name into his mother's maiden name, but that still caused us to not be taken seriously by the families in Eastern Canada. They all started calling us polacks. Course, Luca ended up kicked up to captain anyway, and then was sent to Thailand to set things up there…and you all know how that ended up. So yea, point I'm gonna make…yea, Phil…and Freddy too, they both model the organization off the Sicilians but it's not usual, and I'm guessing that if Phil could have, he would have taken a mulligan."

Ippolito coughs and reaches for an opened can of Heineken. He finishes the beer and sets it down, burping. At this point, half a minute after his long rant, Ippolito realizes that he had drunk seven consecutive beers in a row. "Oh fuck…where's the pisser?" Ippolito asks, having slight trouble standing up and keeping balance. "Over there," Dutch answers, pointing at a door behind the sofa that Rock and Revy are sitting. Ippolito scurries over to the bathroom, swaying side to side. After the bathroom door is shut, Revy turns to Dutch and, with her right hand, extends her fingers forward and slaps the fingers against her thumb, mimicking a quacking duck. Dutch sternly nods in agreement as Rock smiles to himself and takes another sip of beer.

"I'm turning on the boombox," Revy mutters, climbing off the sofa. She walks to the right of the tiny kitchen and steps through an opened doorway. She stares at the ladder to the lower deck, and then turns left, spotting the grey boombox. Revy picks it up and carries it into the lobby, setting it down by the coffee table. She pushes a button and opens one of the two cassette slots, carefully pulling out a cassette tape that says in purple marker 'Bo Diddley – Best of Compilation'. "I was looking for that tape…" Dutch blurts out, grabbing the tape from Revy's right hand. He scans the tape front and back, saying "Yea, I thought I lost this tape. Forgot that we have a stereo."

"Hey Rock, you know any radio stations in the area?" Revy asks, eying the FM dial on the stereo. Rock laughs and says "There is this hilarious Viet radio station that's coming from Roanapur. This former ARVN soldier that fled Vietnam before Saigon fell…he fled to Roanapur. Like Bao did. Shortly after I joined the Lagoon, this guy set up a radio station where he goes on long winded rants in both English and Vietnamese against the Vietnamese government, in between playing Viet Rock and occasional American Rock. He considers doing so to be flipping off the Vietnamese government." "Wait, are you talking about FM 102.9? Sang Cao, that guy who keeps demanding his house back? I heard about him," Dutch inquires, curious. "Yes, him! Last July, he raised enough money that he was able to upgrade the radius to encompass almost all of Thailand and Cambodia, and it even reaches Saigon…well Ho Chi Minh City to be exact. Now most of South Vietnam could hear him," Rock replies, amused with himself.

"FM 102.9, right? Got it," Revy blurts out, adjusting the dial to the specified radio station. She then raises the volume half way up as Ippolito returns from the bathroom, the latter exhaling a deep breath. As Ippolito sits down next to Dutch, the station cuts to Sang Cao saying " _This is FM 102.9, home of Viet and American Classic! Alert! Alert! Cảnh báo (warning)! Đây là một thông báo an toàn công cộng (This is a public safety announcement)! This is a public safety announcement! All Vietnamese Government Officials tuning in, your parents smoke whale dick! Đối với tất cả các thành viên của Đảng (For all members of the Party), cha mẹ của bạn hút thuốc dương vật cá voi (your parents smoke elephant penis)! That is all. We got 30 minutes of nonstop rock coming up, followed by 'Reeducation Nation with Sang Cao'. And for certain people tuning in…FUCK YOU, AND GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING HOUSE!"_

Rock, Revy, and Ippolito all burst into hysterical laughter as Ippolito struggles to ask "What the fuck?! Does this guy do this all day?!" Rock nods his head violently, too consumed with laughter to verbally respond. Dutch chuckles and says "Revy, I think we found your long lost brother." "Fuck you, ha!" Revy replies, still laughing. Calming himself down, Rock blurts out "He was crazier when he first started…like sometimes he would go into tirades long enough to fill a play. Every Wednesday and Saturday, for five hours straight with the occasional commercial. Love his station!"

The stereo continues to play, with Sang Cao saying " _Time for the 2:30 P.M. stretch! Hùng Cường & Mai Lệ Huyền, with their 60s Rock rendition of 'Hờn Anh Giận Em'."_ The stereo begins the track, as Rock takes a sip of beer.

Tuyết overhears the radio and starts whispering the lyrics to the song under her breath. She, along with Benny and Marty, view a new tape, sourced from the camera in the security room. Watching the screen, she starts whispering "Ðêm, đêm, anh đi không về, cô đơn trong căn nhà bé, tuần trăng mật mới không màng mà, cứ mãi đi (Night, night, he goes not to, she alone in her house, did not mind a new honeymoon, keep on going)." Marty gives Tuyết a blank, annoyed stare, and then resumes to staring at the screen. The TV monitor shows a man with short black hair, dressed in a purple t-shirt and grey jeans, fiddling with the security room dashboard. The man, Nathaniel Gessa, smacks the dashboard several times with his right hand. Visible at the top of the screen, and unbeknownst to Gessa, a man dressed in baggy grey cargo pants and a green hooded sweater, his arms covered with leather gloves and his face shrouded behind a balaclava, creeps next to the doorway to the security room. The balaclava wearing man seats himself on the ground next to the doorway and tries to peek inside.

Suddenly, as the balaclava wearing man is climbing up to his feet, a massive wave of obnoxious noise thunders through both the security room and Benny's workstation, causing the balaclava man to fall to the ground on camera, and Tuyết and Benny to flinch in surprise as the reluctant audience. On the monitor, Gessa yells out "Who there?" He grabs his G3A3 rifle and arms himself, approaching the doorway. Suddenly, as the rifle pokes out of the doorway, the balaclava clad man grabs the barrel of the rifle and struggles with Gessa, trying to wrest the rifle out of his hands. Gessa pulls back on the rifle and tries to open fire, only to watch the balaclava clad man shove two of his fingers behind the trigger, rendering the trigger useless. Gessa then pulls the rifle to the right, and swings it left, trying to club the assailant. The assailant ducks under the rifle and, standing behind Gessa, grabs both ends of his rifle and tries to choke him with it, before grabbing onto the sling for better leverage. Gessa grinds his teeth and shoves the rifle out of both of their hands, causing it to slam against a wall. Gessa then swings his right elbow into the assailant's face, yelling "Mannaggia (Damn)!" He reaches for the stunned assailant's balaclava and pulls it off, revealing a middle aged Vietnamese man with once black hair that has gone partially grey, the man's right cheek cut open and bleeding from Gessa's elbow strike.

"Gotcha, you piece of shit! That's Chù's brother alright!" Marty yells, as on the screen, the assailant lunges at Gessa and pins him to a wall. The assailant then draws a CZ-75 pistol from under his sweater as Gessa shoves the assailant back a few steps. Gessa spots the pistol and yells "Ugatz (fuck)!" He lunges at the pistol and grabs the barrel with his left hand, covering it with his left palm. The assailant quickly arcs the barrel toward Gessa's chest and opens fire as Gessa's palm blocks the edge of the barrel. The first bullet exits through Gessa's left hand and strikes him in the left lung. The second bullet cuts a deeper wound in Gessa's left hand and strikes Gessa in the chest, severing his aorta artery. Gessa flinches, takes a step back, and looks down as he bleeds all over the floor, losing all control of his legs. He grasps at his chest and falls face forward, dead before he hits the ground. The assailant stares at Gessa's body and grasps at his own hair, panicking. He turns to the security monitors and quickly unloads bullets into the screen, right before spotting a camera, which he shoots as well, engulfing into darkness the TV in Benny's workstation.

"Alright…what we saw, a few things that's making my head spin. First, why would Chù's brother break into the facility, and not someone working for him? And why in street clothes?" Benny speaks out, turning to Marty and Tuyết. Tuyết taps on Benny's shoulder and replies "Trung. His name is Trung. Trung Thanh Hoàng. If Trung had to break in by himself, then this isn't a Tổng Cục II operation. Trung is influential but he does not control the agency. This proves that Chù's influence isn't as widespread in the secret police as we have originally thought. This also explains the lack of agency equipment."

Benny nods and says "That explains the street clothes. What about Gessa?" Marty glances at Tuyết and says "You mean…why the fuck wasn't his body dumped into the sea and forgotten about?" Benny nods and says "Yeah, that." Marty turns to Tuyết and asks "Any ideas? Does this shit make any sense to you? All I got was that Trung got really fucking sloppy. Guessing that Nat Gas's hardcore orchestra concert scared Trung shitless and made him think that an alarm's been sounded."

Tuyết touches her chin with her right hand and cups her right elbow with her left hand, rubbing her chin. "Maybe to send a message?" Tuyết blurts out, before immediately shaking her head. She taps her fingers against the TV monitor and says "This is the secret police. They don't send messages. Too impractical…they want us to know less then more." She snaps her fingers in frustration and blurts out "Anh ấy không có ở để giết Gessa (He was not there to kill Gessa)." Marty sighs in annoyance and asks "Alright Tuyết. Say you're in Trung's shoes. For what fucking crazy shit reason would you have to stash a body in a place that you know for sure would be found. Why the barge? The fuck he has to gain from doing that?"

Tuyết thinks for several seconds, and then starts nodding violently, saying "To find out where the garbage goes into! To catch us…well you and Black Lagoon Company…in either open water or another secluded dump site. No witnesses...sink boat and bodies too. Địa ngục (Hell), that's very clever. Did you find any tracking bugs?" Marty grasps at his hair, almost pulling it, and says "No, I didn't find any fucking tracking bugs. If I did, I would have mentioned them! Oh fuck…NICKY! NICKY!" Ippolito opens the door to Benny's workstation and stumbles inside, saying "Yeah boss?"

"Nicky…go get some of the people on shore, the one's doing their rounds. Either tow the barge to land and inspect it or dive underwater and check it front to back. The secret police bugged the barge," Marty commands Ippoltio, who looks at his boss incredulously and rubs his eyes, as if in disbelief of what he is hearing. "Boss," Ippolito says "if they bugged the barge, any tracking device probably fell off already, either from the water or from us pushing the blocks into the sea." Marty sarcastically laughs and says "Nicky, we are in a shit slinging match with a government agency. The word 'probably' ain't going to cut it here." Ippolito slouches his shoulders and says "Marty…I'm kinda drunk over here." Marty glares at Ippolito, fakes a chuckle, and steps toward him, saying "Do I look like I give a fuck? Go, get it done. Make yourself fucking useful." Ippolito raises his arms in protest, only to quickly resign to defeat. As he slowly steps out of Benny's workstation, Marty yells out "GO, YOU LONG-HAIRED HIPPEE FUCK!"

Marty's yelling prompts Ippolito to hurry, the latter running toward an ascending ladder. Miraculously, he climbs the ladder without falling off. As Ippolito searches for the exit out of the Lagoon, Marty turns to Benny and Tuyết, saying "This shit still doesn't add up. If those cocksuckers bugged the barge, or the garbage, or Gessa's narrowed asshole, then why didn't anyone give us a hard time out at sea?" Benny suddenly starts laughing hysterically, as Marty and Tuyết stare on in confusion. Marty grabs Benny by his right shoulder and says "Something I said? Narrowed asshole? What's the fucking matter, butt plug fell out?"

Benny heaves a sigh, thinks of replying with a smartass comment, and ultimately decides not to. He instead replies "Earlier today, while we were in the city…before noon, where we all went shopping for basic supplies…I took a visit to an internet café. Over there, I found an interesting article online, which I printed out to read for later. Get a load of this…" Benny climbs out of his seat and gently pushes Tuyết out of his way. He reaches for a plastic shopping bag lying by the wall and sticks his hand inside. Benny then pulls out a printed article from an Australian newspaper and reads the headline "Philippine Navy In Hot Water." He hands the article to Marty and says "A Philippine naval patrol boat pursued a Vietnamese poaching vessel near Thitu Island, well really called Pag-asa Island, at least that is what the article reports. The Vietnamese boat managed to keep its distance from the patrol boat, and managed to escape the Philippine claim line of the Spratly Islands. The naval boat, however, wouldn't quit…its stubborn captain, who is apparently under investigation, pursued the poaching vessel for a couple hundred miles, into Vietnamese waters."

Marty hands the article to Tuyết and exclaims "The fuck does it have to do with us?!" Benny raises his left index finger into the air and says "That's the hilarious part. When I went back to manning the radar yesterday, the radar picked up an unmarked vessel north of us, about ten minutes after I sat down by the radar. The vessel just stayed there for thirty minutes, way out of reach for it to be problem, but still barely within the range of the radar. I tried communicating with the boat a few times, and got no answer. I then just kept my eye on the boat the whole time. About thirty minutes after it appeared, this third ship zipped by right below the unmarked vessel, like a bat out of hell. I contacted that ship, and my only response was "Biến đi (fuck off)."

Tuyết suppresses a chuckle and says "I'm guessing that this was the poaching vessel." Benny nods and says "My thinking as well, because after I got my friendly response from that third boat, a large vessel popped up on my radar. I identified the Lagoon as a privately owned Thai boat and the fourth boat identified itself as Philippine Navy, commanded by a Capt. Villar. He told us to stay put and said that he was pursuing a vessel, as that wasn't obvious already. The same captain under investigation for trespassing into Vietnamese waters, the guy in the article. Now at that point, the poaching vessel disappeared from the radar, and for some reason, the patrol boat started approaching the unmarked boat from earlier. You see where this is going…"

Marty laughs and says "The Filipinos thought that Trung's boat was the poaching vessel, waving the white flag. So when Trung started responding in Vietnamese, the Filipinos thought that they had their boat. So when they went to intercept them, Trung and whoever he was with had to fuck off out of there." Benny nods and says "Looks like it. Sounds like we owe the Philippine Navy a solid." "I'll send the cappy a fruit basket, right after he gets demoted to scrubbing toilets," Marty replies, reaching for the article in Tuyết's hands. He scans the article once more and asks "What's this bout the whatchamacallit? Spratly Islands. That shit."

Tuyết taps Marty on the shoulder and says "The Spratly Islands are a bunch of islands between Vietnam and the Philippines. They have a lot of oil and fish, very resource rich. Vietnam, China, Malaysia, Taiwan, and the Philippines all claim and occupy some of the islands, and have argued between each other over getting more islands. Around 10 years ago, China and Vietnam had a sea battle over a couple of the islands…China won. Four years ago, China took a reef from the Philippines while the Philippines left the reef unguarded. Instead of doing battle, the Philippines increased naval patrols in the area. Chinese and Vietnamese fishermen that illegally poach the reefs for fish get routinely arrested by the Philippine Navy…though I never heard of a boat chasing a poacher for that long. Surprised that the patrol boat didn't catch up with the poachers…must have been an old vessel."

"How close was our dump site to the Spratly Islands?" Marty asks, turning to Benny. Benny rubs his forehead and says "I'd estimate…around 200 hundred miles. Why?" "FUCK! That newspaper asshole is trying to get me on the dumping!" Marty exclaims, to which Benny replies with "It's not THAT close to the Spratlys." Marty slams his right hand against his forehead and exclaims "Do you think anyone is going to give a shit?! They'll just say that I was closer to the Islands in earlier dumps, or they'll just suggest it even, that'll be enough. I can see the headline now: 'Local Dago Capitalist Sabotages National Fishing Industry'. I think it has a nice fucking ring, don't you?! Fuck this! I'm calling it a day."

Marty opens the door to the lobby of the Lagoon, the radio currently playing 'Con Tim Và Nước Mắt' by Bích Loan and the CBC Band. He steps into the lobby and turns to Black Lagoon Company, saying "Here me out, and hear me out good. You all know where your motels are going to be, you remember right? Good, cause tomorrow, I'm going to have someone pick you up from Nha Trang…around noon. The drive is going to be like 3 hours long, to Thinh Nguyễn's place in Saigon. There, we all going to plan this shit out. Now, I'm going to see if Nicky hasn't drowned or pissed all over the barge. You all can get going now." "Got it, Marty," Dutch says as Tuyết exits Benny's workstation. She nods at Black Lagoon Company, and then follows Marty to the ladder to the upper deck. As Dutch hears the door to the deck of the Lagoon slam shut, he turns to Benny's workstation and yells out "We overheard the whole thing, Benny-boy. Good work, looks like some of Rock has rubbed off on you. Now next time you see suspicious vessels on radar, you better damn tell us!"

A dark red Volvo 240 DL Sedan cruises through a relatively empty road in Roanapur, passing a few apartment complexes. Inside, Laurent Reynolds, dressed in blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt that says in red lettering 'Pas de Quartier (no quarter), Pas de Pitié (no mercy), Seulement… (Only)', converses with a very young and slightly skinny native Hawaiian man, the later sporting short black hair combed backwards and slightly tanned skin. The Hawaiian man is dressed in green khaki shorts and a collared, buttoned black shirt with a design of a large, grey horse galloping, the buttons dividing the horse in half. Inside the Volvo sedan, the radio plays 'Le Combat Continue (The Fight Continues)' by French rap group Idéal J.

"We are going to change our dead drops, Russell. Interesting times, vous me suivez (you following me)? You get what I mean?" Reynolds explains, a plastic tray lying on the divider between the driver seat and Russell Keawe, the latter sitting on the front side passenger seat. Inside the tray is a half-eaten serving of pad thai, a plastic fork plunged inside the rice noodles. Russell looks out of the window, watching the occasional signs of life zip by, saying "I get you ali`i (boss). How's it been? Enjoying the sun?"

"Nah, busy, busy, busy. House hunting for family…I narrowed down a few nice locations in Bangkok. One property owner was a fils de pute (son of a bitch), an absolute piece of shit. He tried to keep me from entering the basement, where rats were having a putain de orgie (fucking orgy). No, haven't been able to enjoy the beach. Weather has been merdique (shitty) when I had free time," Reynolds replies, taking a right turn at an intersection.

"I appreciate how you are looking out for your family. My father has been suffering from early onset Alzheimer's. Only 46 and his mind is already deteriorating. I've been making payments for a caretaker, it's very expensive. I want to be with him but I need the money to support him," Russell mutters, grimacing to himself. Reynolds, his eyes on the road, asks "What about rest of your family?" Russell shakes his head and says "Divorced when I was in 2nd grade, both grandparents passed away. No aunts or uncles. I'm pretty much his only family left." Reynolds glares at Russell for a few seconds, and then ultimately says nothing. After a short pause, Russell blurts out "I heard what happened to that Seok guy." Reynolds nods and replies with "Oui (yes)? What about it?" "Do you think there is going to be more trouble with the Koreans?" Russell inquires, keeping his eyes out of the window. Reynolds shrugs his shoulders and says "Qui vivra, verra (Who lives, sees). We'll find out eventually."

The Volvo parks in front of a dilapidated row of two floor buildings, the top floor being residential buildings with iron gates on their windows and the bottom floor being an assortment of stores. Reynolds exits the Volvo with his pad thai tray in hand as Russell follows suit. Reynolds and Russell both shut their respective car doors, which is followed by Reynolds locking the car. The sun continues its descent as Reynolds glances at his stainless steel watch, the watch revealing that it is 4:14 P.M. He points at a condemned ice cream parlor, and says "C'est l'endroit (this is the place). Follow me."

Reynolds, holding the tray between his left hand and his left ribs, pulls a key out of his pocket with his remaining hand. He unlocks the entrance to the condemned ice cream parlor and steps inside, as Russell follows. Inside, the parlor is a shell of its former self, with all the food and the machinery removed, leaving behind dusty, white, round tables and an empty white counter. Reynolds approaches one of the round tables and places his tray of pad thai on the table as Russell shuts the door. Russell extends his arms outward and asks "Where's the bag?"

Emotionless and without saying a word, Reynolds walks toward the middle of the counter and looks down on the wooden floor. His white tennis shoes on, Reynolds squares up a section of the floor and drives his right foot down on it, causing a large, wooden square-shaped piece of the floor to cave in. He pulls out the square chunk of the floor and tosses it aside, the chunk of wood clanging against the grey colored wall. Russell looks at the black duffle bag stuffed under the floor, not saying a word. Reynolds pulls the duffle bag on its straps and props it on the counter. He seats himself on a blue bar stool and meditates for a second in front of the duffle bag. Suddenly, he grabs the duffle bag, and slowly slides it toward Russell.

Russell glares at the duffle bag, and then at Reynolds. Confused, he reaches for the duffle bag, only to have Reynolds snatch it back. "What's going on?" Russell nervously asks. Reynolds reaches into his pockets and pulls out a lighter and a pack of Dunhill International Lights. He fishes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a drag. "Want a smoke?" Reynolds says. "What the hell is going on?!" Russell yells out, visibly distressed. Reynolds takes another drag and exhales smoke, eyes forward, and says "I know you ratted to the Koreans, Russell. Go take the money and get out of here. Go back to Hawaii…leave and never come back."

Russell freezes up, glaring at Reynolds, his heart racing. His breathing become heavier, Russell forces himself to look at the duffle bag. His hands shaking, Russell grimaces at Reynolds and grabs the duffle bag, yelling "I'm sorry! I needed the money…I was desperate! Seok went up to me and offered to pay for some information. I didn't think it would have nearly gotten Takahashi killed! I had to do it! MY FATHER'S BRAIN WAS TURNING TO MUSH!" "I understand," Reynolds replies, taking a drag of his cigarette. "I thought you would, Laurent. Mahalo (thank you), thank you very much!" Russell replies back. He takes a few steps toward the entrance, and reaches for the zipper on the duffle bag. He unzips the duffle bag, and immediately lets the bag drop to the ground as $500 _Monopoly_ notes fly out of it.

The door to the ice cream parlor swings open, and a middle aged native Hawaiian man, around six feet tall, with long black hair tied into a ponytail and an untrimmed moustache, wearing a green tracksuit and white tennis shoes, steps inside the ice cream parlor and shuts the door behind him. His face somewhat wrinkled and his eyebrows thick, he menacingly smiles and says "Aloha, you little shit." Russell almost gags on his saliva, mustering out "Oh fuck…fuck." As he starts backing up, Reynolds climbs off the bar stool and seats himself down next to his tray of pad thai. From the rear of the ice cream parlor, James Apuna, dressed in a blue and green plaid unbuttoned collared shirt, a beige undershirt, and black track pants, appears, whistling to himself. He laughs at Russell and says "Hey Russell…remember me? I'm the guy that Seok almost took out in the restaurant."

His adrenaline pumping, Russell turns back and forth, searching for a way out. Unarmed, he scans the bar for something to grab on. Finding nothing, Russell makes a bee line for the exit behind Apuna. As he tries dodging Apuna, Apuna grabs Russell by his right arm and pushes him face first into the wall, shattering his nose. Apuna then slides his arms behind Russell's head in a full nelson grapple, as Reynolds places his cigarette on the table. Apuna drags Russell toward the counter, stares at the man in the tracksuit, and yells out "Kawika, grab the little shit's legs!"

As Kawika grabs onto both of Russell's legs, Reynolds pops open the tray cover to his pad thai and reaches for the slightly greasy plastic fork. He plunges it into a web of rice noodles, egg, crushed peanut, and shrimp. The two Hawaiians lift Russell up and drag him across the counter, with Apuna holding him in the full nelson and Kawika pinning his legs together. They angle Russell to face Reynolds, who is chewing his pad thai. Apuna releases his full nelson hold and wraps Russell in a headlock, forcing him to look at Reynolds. Panicking and terrified out of his wits, flailing in the grasps of Apuna and Kawika, blood dripping out of his nose, Russell yells out "PLEASE REYNOLDS! Please! You know I did it for the right reasons! Please, if you kill me, my father is going to starve! You value family Reynolds…DON'T DO THIS!"

Reynolds swallows what he was chewing, blinks, and says "Kawika, check if the rat ate any cheese." Kawika laughs and says "I'll do a thorough inspection." He psychotically smiles at Russell and pulls a hunting knife out of his tracksuit pocket. Russell spots the blade and immediately flails, yelling "OH FUCK! SOMEONE HELP! HELP, THEY ARE GOING TO FUCKING KILL ME! HELP! OH JESUS, FUCK! FUCK!" He tries kicking at Kawika, who simply parries the kicks downward, waiting for his exact moment. "Oh Jesus…oh Jesus, not like this, oh shit," Russell swears as Kawika sizes him up. He tries looking away, only to have Apuna wrench his head back to its original position. His breathing heavy and his body shaking, Russell closes his eyes as Kawika shoves the hunting knife horizontally into Russell's left ribs.

Apuna pushes Russell's head downward, forcing him to watch, muttering "Look, you lolo (stupid) motherfucker. Watch the show, it's not gonna take long." Russell ceases to yell and simply glares at the knife, his breathing extremely heavy as sweat rolls down his forehead and blood starts to seep out of the wound. "Mahalo, you fucking rat," Kawika blurts out as he grabs the hilt of the knife and slices open Russell's abdominal cavity amidst his agonizing screams, nicking a few arteries in the process. Reynolds continues to eat as blood pours out of Russell's abdomen, staining his green khakis. Kawika laughs and pulls upward at the opening with the knife and digs inside the opening, slashing and cutting, causing Russell's guts to spill onto the floor and his intestines to dangle out in midair. He slashes at Russell's dangling intestines and cuts them loose as blood flows out of his abdomen.

Reynolds pierces a shrimp and eats it as Kawika drives his knife into Russell's neck and cuts it open, silencing his screams. He swallows the shrimp and asks "Any cheese?" Apuna grabs Russell's dead body by the hair and pushes his corpse to the side, the corpse landing on its left shoulder. Kawika walks up to Russell's dead body and taps his head with his shoe. He pockets the bloody knife and turns to Reynolds, saying "Got nothing." Reynolds tosses his fork into the tray and reattaches the cover onto it. He then grabs his cigarette and places it in his mouth. He takes his tray and exits out the front as Kawika grabs the duffle bag and follows Reynolds. Apuna turns toward the chunk of wood from the floor and grabs it, turning toward a rear exit. Outside, Reynolds unlocks the Volvo and steps in the driver's seat, as Kawika seats himself in the front side passenger seat. A white Mercury Grand Marquis, driven by Apuna, appears out of a driveway and drives past the Volvo without giving recognition. Reynolds takes a drag on his cigarette, starts the engine, and hits the gas, as the two exit the street without saying a word.

In the city of Nha Trang, Black Lagoon Company enters the lobby of a motel, the front desk right across from them, it being kept lit by an old lamp. Behind the front desk, a short Vietnamese man with wavy hair combed to the side and a faint goatee, wearing a black and grey pinstriped dress shirt and beige slacks, occupies the otherwise empty motel lobby. The four mercenaries approach the front desk, each carrying a small case of luggage. The Vietnamese man stares at the four mercenaries and glares at them with confusion. After a pause, he points at all of them and says "Ehh…you with Mr. Zappa? Canadian businessman?"

Benny looks at Dutch and laughs, as Dutch sighs and says "Yeah, we are with him." The Vietnamese man opens a guest ledger and scans through it. He turns his attention to Black Lagoon Company and asks "Which of you is Bucky Goldstein?" Revy and Dutch restrain themselves from laughing, using all their might, as Benny glares at Dutch and Revy with a look that screams _"Are you kidding me?!"_ He turns to the motel manager and says "That'll be me." Benny approaches the front the desk and signs his name, not daring to peak at the other names.

The motel manager looks back on the ledger and asks "Lady? Are you Mai Lin?" Revy turns to Dutch and a snickering Benny and whispers "I don't get it." Benny whispers into her ear "She's a porn star." Revy jerks her head at Benny and says "I'm so going to kill Marty." She signs her name and glances at the name below 'hers', the last name on the page. She raises an eyebrow and steps away, grabbing the hilt of her luggage case. The Vietnamese man proceeds to the next name on the page, asking "Which of you is Genzo Kurita?" Dutch, Benny, and Revy stare at Rock, not getting the joke, as Rock sighs and walks toward the front desk, signing his name. The motel manager stares at the group and remarks "These names are fake, right? Don't answer that question, I don't want to know."

He flips the page on the ledger and glares at the name on top. Reading it over twice silently, he asks "Marsellus Wallace?" Rock, Revy, and Benny burst out into hysterical laughter as Dutch shakes his head and signs his name on the ledger. The Vietnamese man snaps his fingers and says "Follow me." The four mercenaries grab their luggage and follow the manager up a nearby flight of stairs.

On the 2nd floor, the manager points to a pair of adjacent rooms, numbered 22 and 24. He turns to Rock and Revy and says "You two, you get 22. 24 is for the rest. Separate beds and a personal bathroom. You are responsible for cleaning bathroom and making the bed…no one will enter these rooms but you four. Do not ask for room service, you will not get any. You do not tell me what you do here…I do not want to know. If police come, I will not protect you, and I will pretend that I knew nothing. Fair? Fair." He hands Rock and Revy a pair of keys, and tosses another pair of keys at Dutch, who hands one over to Benny. Without saying another word, the Vietnamese man returns to his front desk as if nothing ever happened.

Dutch turns to Rock and Revy and says "The two of us are going to get settled down. We'll knock if anything comes up." He turns toward the door to room 24 and unlocks it, stepping inside. Benny follows suit and yells "A TV?! Orange Bowl, here I come! This is going to be sick!" Revy opens the door to room 22 and steps in, dragging her luggage as Rock follows suit with his luggage. Stepping inside, they find two modest beds on the left wall and a TV with a cabinet on it on the right. In the wall across from them, they spot a window covered with iron bars and draped behind a light green translucent curtain. The walls, painted a beige color, are virtually bare. A wooden door leads to a bathroom behind the beds and the wall that separates them. To their immediate left is a black safe and a small closet.

"A fucking porn star huh? Where does he get off, pulling shit like this?! Fucking hobo!" Revy swears, unpacking her luggage. She pulls out her black tank top and corduroy blue shorts, and sets them on the nearby bed. As she pulls out a set of tracksuits, Rock yells "Do you know who Genzo Kurita is?! He was one of Japan's worst serial killers! He ate people! Had sex with them! Sometimes in that order! What the hell?!" From across the wall, Rock and Revy could barely hear Dutch screaming "Don't do it, Benny! Don't even think about it!" Shortly afterwards, Benny yells out "DOES MARION SAVAGE LOOK…LIKE…A BITCH?!" Immediately afterwards, Rock and Revy hear a barely audible smack and the sound of someone hitting the floor. The two smile at each other and shake their heads.

She pulls her two Cutlasses out of her tracksuit pockets and sets them by the TV. She then returns her attention to her luggage case, reaching inside. As Revy sets a case of 9mm ammunition on the cabinet next to the TV, Rock removes his dress shoes and climbs into bed, sprawled on his back, engulfing himself in the beige covers. He lets out an audible sigh and scratches the back of his head. "Do you want to get something to eat?" Revy asks, pulling a MP5A3 out of her luggage. She sets the submachine gun next to a few cases of 9mm ammo as Rock replies "I could go for some food." Revy pulls out a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste and says "I want to take a shower first. Need the bathroom?"

Rock shakes his head and says "No. Go ahead." Revy pulls out a bottle of body wash and places it on the ground. She stares at Rock's exposed belly, the medical tape covering his torso. "You ever think of removing the tape?" Revy inquires, removing her boots. Rock shakes his head, closes his eyes, and says "I've already gotten used to them." His tone is melancholic and almost appears to be slightly upset. Revy blankly stares at Rock and proceeds to unzip her tracksuit top, revealing a sleeveless grey shirt. Smirking at Rock, she tosses her tracksuit top to the ground and removes her grey shirt, exposing her breasts. She then reaches for the waistline on Rock's dress pants and pulls on them, saying "I heard that showering together saves a couple gallons of water. Protecting the environment and all."

Rock opens his eyes and smirks back at Revy. He forces a pained laugh, and then immediately suppresses all his thoughts, lunging at Revy's neck. He caresses her breasts with his left hand and kisses her neck, thinking of something to say. Failing to say anything, he smiles and removes his dress shirt as Revy playfully pushes him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

Stepping into the Yellow Flag, the sky orange and the sun almost completing its descent, Fred Viapiano surveys the fine establishment. Dressed in a red and white Hawaiian shirt, dark green slacks, and black sandals, the 'Ndrangheta boss watches a European expatriate arm wrestle a Vietnamese local as what appears to be European escort girls watch the contest. A couple of patrons in a nearby table take note of the contest and start wagering money on the contestants. Viapiano turns his attention to the left, zeroing in on a table near the bar counter. A long haired blonde woman in a pink tank top and dark blue jeans sips on Don Julio Añejo tequila, straight from the bottle. She puts the bottle down and turns toward a napkin covered in salt. Eda pinches the salt with her right hand and, after staring at it for several seconds, tosses it over her left shoulder, to the minor annoyance of Bao the bartender. By Eda's side, resting diagonally on the edge of the table, is an aluminum crutch. Viapiano smirks to himself and approaches Eda's table.

Without introducing himself, he sits down on a table across from Eda. Smirking to himself, he folds his arms on the table and stares at her, not saying a word. Eda reaches for the bottle of tequila and takes a few more sips from it, staring at Viapiano, and also not saying a word. The silence continues for a minute, as Bao stares at the table with slight discomfort. He reaches under the bar counter and checks that his shotgun is still there.

After another minute passes, Eda suddenly blurts out "Are you going to say anything or are you expecting a lap dance?" Viapiano looks down at the table and laughs, saying "Missy, we haven't met before, but you did business with a friend of ours, and…" "I know who you are, Viapiano. The fuck you want?" Eda sternly replies. "Straight to business, lady. I like that…alright the fuck do we start from? Oh I got it…as I recall, your organization and my organization had this little…thing going on, you know what I'm saying?" Viapiano answers, shuffling his hands as he talks.

Eda smirks to herself and takes another sip of tequila, saying "Funny you say that, cause as I recall…the only business was between me and Luca. No organizations…no nothing. And since he is currently six feet under, I'd say that any business has been finished. Concluded…over and done. So I ask you again, the fuck you want from me?" Viapiano cups his hands in front of Eda and says "Those 400 kilos of blow that Luca gave to you? He didn't have real ownership of them…he was running a consignment operation…so to speak. Back in Vancouver, those drugs belonged to me…and you know…I kinda fucking want them back. Like now." Eda shrugs her shoulders and says "He sold me the stuff for information, so I say he fulfilled his side of the bargin." Viapiano runs his right index finger along the table and says "You see, whatever the fuck Luca was doing here…it wasn't what any of us in the organization wanted. So lady…where the fuck is my yeyo?"

Eda laughs and says "I think you should stand up and get out of here." Bao hears this and grips tightly on the buttstock of his shotgun. Viapiano takes a quick scan of the bar, and then turns to Eda, saying "Nah, I don't think so missy, I don't think so at all. I think you reasonably knew that Luca was stealing the powder from me and that you owe me for the stuff." Eda glares at Viapiano and says "I seriously don't think you know who you are speaking to right now." Viapiano chuckles twice and immediately afterwards darts an annoyed glare at Eda, saying "Oh I say otherwise, Barry Seal. I say that the blow is long gone and that you owe me. But since I'm a reasonable guy, I'll just knock down restitution to a few small favors, nothing crazy. Let's say…three favors, just me asking for information. Three's the magic number, you know?"

Eda kneels forward at Viapiano and gives an incredulous smile, saying "Are you actually trying to shakedown a security agency that has destroyed governments in the span of years?" Viapiano frowns and kneels back, putting his arms to his chest as to appear to be misunderstood. He shrugs his shoulders and says "Get out of here! Who says anything about security agencies? The way I see it, the only business we have is between you and me. No organizations, no nothing. I think it will be kosher if we keep it this way…no need for anyone in Virginia to know what you did with Luca…or anyone here in Roanapur for that matter."

Eda groans and grinds her teeth, visibly defeated. After glancing at her feet, she turns back to Viapiano and says "You got all the aces here. What's to stop you from asking for more favors when the well runs dry?"

Viapiano climbs out of his seat and approaches Eda, getting within inches of her. As a few patrons stare at the scene before them and as Bao props his shotgun on the bar counter, Viapiano gets within centimeters of her face and angrily says "Wanna know what's stopping me? Because I stand by my fucking word, unlike you and your bullshit nun clothes and your sacrilegious bullshit church. You got some fucking balls, disrespecting the Lord Jesus Christ like that, huh? Where you get off pulling shit like that, you fucking disgrace?!" Eda laughs at Viapiano's hypocrisy and says "Coming from a real model to society like you, that means a lot to me. Yeah, maybe I'll take what you say to heart…you fucking clown!"

Viapiano reaches for Eda's hair and grasps tightly on it, glaring at her with rage. Not seeing Eda draw a Glock 17L, he hisses at Eda and says "You want to be a fucking comedian huh, you fucking zoccola (sewer rat)?! Let me ask you something, are you even Catholic? Have you even read the fucking book?" Eda snarls at Viapiano and angrily replies "I was raised a Lutheran, key word being 'was'. Now, a deal is a deal, so get your hands off my hair, go home, and search your closet for your FUCKING SHINEBOX!"

Viapiano grins menacingly at Eda, letting go of her hair, as the bar goes completely silent. He points at her, sarcastically smiles, and says "That's very good…I like that." Turning away from Eda, he approaches the exit, muttering under his breath "Very good…very clever." The patrons give Viapiano a wide berth as he exits the bar, still muttering "Very good…very clever."

Seated in an outdoor bar next to a pillar, Black Lagoon Company, dressed as they were earlier, relax and enjoy the ocean breeze. Adjacent to the bar is an empty public pool, the water reflecting the moonlight. A few tourists sit on poolside beds, reading books or playing checkers under a clear parasol. The bar is mostly empty, with a single bartender tending to a few tables. Rock sips on a bottle of Suntory Premium Malt's Beer, Revy alternates between a cigarette and a clear tumbler of Kim Son Sticky Rice Wine, an empty bottle of the stuff next to her, Dutch meditates on a glass of Appleton Estate V/X rum, a half empty bottle next to him, and Benny watches as the bartender places a tumbler full of dark liquid on the table, saying "Rum and Coke."

Taking advantage of a rare silence amongst the four, Dutch starts singing quietly to himself 'Pieces of a Man' by Gil-Scott Heron. "I saw my daddy greet the mailman. And I head the mailman say. Now don't you take this too hard Jimmy…cause they laid off nine others today," Dutch mutters quietly enough that only Benny overheard what he said. He continues "He could hardly understand…that he was only talking to…pieces of a man." Dutch takes a sip of his rum and glances melancholically at the pool, watching the moon reflect off the water. He continues "Burden of his shame. And for some reason, he never turned my way." Benny gives his boss a concerned look, and turns away when Dutch turns to look at him. Quieting his singing, he continues "Sound of sirens, come knifing through the gloom. They don't know what they are doing…they could hardly understand. That they are only arresting…pieces of a man."

He sighs and reaches into his pants for a pack of Natural American Spirit and a lighter. Fishing out a cigarette, he continues to sing, almost hum "He was always such a good man…he was always such a strong, strong man." He lights his cigarette and takes a drag, singing "Yeah, I saw him go to pieces." He knocks ash off his cigarette and onto an ashtray, concluding "I saw him go to pieces." The ash falls onto the ashtray and breaks apart, an ember fizzing out.

"What was that? You were singing something, Dutch?" Benny inquires, taking a sip of his cocktail. "Yeah, Gil-Scott Heron," Dutch replies, matter-of-factly. Benny points at Dutch with his tumbler and says "Not my type of my music, but he's pretty good. I heard a couple of his songs. More of a Waylon Jennings fan." "Oh fuck you're giving me flashbacks to Tennessee and Kentucky," Revy replies, smirking, slightly drunk off the rice wine.

Benny and Dutch stare at Revy, as Rock asks "Tennessee?" Revy sighs and says "I told Rock some of this already, but yea, Tennessee and Kentucky. I ran out of NYC after I shot a couple of cops…laid low in Pittsburgh for a few months. I was working as a bagman…err bagwoman…for some gangsters. Sort of. Did the same back in NYC. I had to waste one of the guys I was working with because he went after me, smacked out of his mind. I then ditched PA and ran to Kentucky. I found some work there…worked for this group for the rest of the time I spent in America. Kentucky, Tennessee, a few stops in Missouri…Arkansas…Bama and Miss." Benny surveys Revy, curious. He considers prying further but decides not to, instead turning to Dutch.

"You know Dutch, you did mention Oakland before, a couple of times. And Roscoe did too. What were you doing there, if you don't mind?" Benny inquires. Dutch takes a long drag of his cigarette and says "Well, since you know the big stuff already, more or else, might as well say. I was with the Black Panthers. Was with them before I enlisted into the USMC with Roscoe…back in 68 and until we enlisted in 71. That was around the time when the Black Panthers start evolving from a black nationalist organization to a far-left organization…and there were things that happened in my life that made the organization very attractive to me, to put it simply. I got interested into them after they protested the Mulford Act, which banned open carry of guns in California. I quit my last year of high school, fled my single mother, and dragged Roscoe with me to Oakland. Over there, one of the co-founders, Henry Isaacs, stressed survival techniques and taught everyone them. That's where I got my combat training…not with the marines. That training actually got us deployed faster than most people…my superiors over there were a bit suspicious and probably guessed where I learned to shoot, but you don't get picky with volunteered help when a war is dragging on."

"Well that explains why Shane Caxton called bullshit on your war experience," Benny mutters, which causes Dutch to jerk his head and stare at Benny. A bit irritated, he surveys the bar for anyone sitting nearby, and then says "Wait a minute. Caxton said that? Look, I get it…I don't got the lingo down like he does, I was only in training for a month and in Vietnam for four months. I went AWOL with Roscoe during An Lộc, lived across the border with Roscoe until I snuck into Laos, stayed there for a while until I was forced into Cambodia and joined the Khmer Rouge when they were overthrowing the Khmer Republic. I spent time in Indochina, no doubt about that." Benny takes a sip of his drink and says "I don't mean anything by it, and it doesn't matter to me either way. I trust you Dutch, we all do."

Dutch waves Benny off and says "That wasn't a concern. I'm just saying this now to get it out of the way, since you all met Roscoe and heard a few things. Anyway, I fought with the Khmer Rouge, me and Roscoe. We got rewarded with indefinite imprisonment, where things got so sick that me describing it would ruin this evening. Eventually, Roscoe and I managed to break out. I took him to Jakarta, ditched him there, and then stopped in Kuching, Malaysia, where I overheard about the existence of some city called Roanapur, and I made that my next destination. The torpedo boat had a fully stocked armory, and I sold off most of it for money. That's when Black Lagoon Company, a one man operation at first, basically started."

"Why the hell did you go AWOL, again?" Revy asks, confused. Dutch sighs and says "When I was with the Black Panthers, one of our main sources of income was selling Mao Zedong's red books. I remember being given a few twenties and being sent to the Chinatown in San Fran. $40 got us crates of the books, which were then sold for four, five, sometimes eight times what we bought them for, usually at local universities. For the little effort, it was a sizeable amount of money, selling these then unknown books. Henry Isaacs got to making them mandatory reading, and for me the book felt like the answer to everything. My logic then was, why force it in America when you could defend it where it already is. That's why I joined the marines…I basically used them to pay for my trip to Indochina. Now obviously that was an idiotic idea, and Roscoe and I almost starved to death in the jungles. Course, I was young and stupid back then, and life kicked all of both out of me in equal measure. I still read the book every now and then to see what exactly went wrong."

"Life has a way of doing that to everyone," Benny blurts out, to which everyone nods in agreement. Revy raises her glass of rice wine and says "That's some shit that I can drink to!" The bartender gives Revy a dirty look as she raises her glass for a toast, which everyone makes. Looking at her empty glass, Revy turns to the bartender and smiles, saying "Hey you! One more!" Rock glances at Revy's empty cup and says "Revy, you already drank an entire bottle. And you are not acting like you usually are when drunk." Revy smiles and turns to Rock, smacking him across the forehead, saying "Fuck you! What's that supposed to mean?! You think I can't take it? Fuck youuuuu!"

Rock turns to the bartender and says "Không được mang uống (Don't bring drink)." He fishes out several Vietnamese notes of 100,000 dong, the currency a purplish red color showing a portrait of Ho Chi Minh. He drops the currency on the table and turns to Revy, saying "Let's get back to the motel before you drink yourself into a herculean hangover." Smiling and, uncharacteristically, happily drunk, she yells "Hey, hey!" in protest as Rock pulls her out of her seat. Dutch and Benny stare and shake their heads as Rock pulls Revy on his shoulder and carries her away. He turns to Dutch and Benny and says "We got work tomorrow, and if she starts seriously drinking, I'm going to have to compete. And Marty said that we're waking up a bit early, so no way I could survive." Benny and Dutch wave Rock off as he exits the outdoor bar and steps on the sidewalk of Trần Phú street.

"Hey Rock…I think I'm drunk…" Revy says, laughing to herself. Rock smirks and says "Just a bit. I don't know what they put in the rice wine, because you aren't as you usually are when you're drunk." "Oh yeah, how the fuck am I when I'm usually drunk," Revy inquires, her eyes fixated on the vibrant green light as the two cross the street. Turning right on the street, Rock says "Usually a bit more violent."

As they turn left at the corner onto Tuệ Tĩnh street, a couple of young Vietnamese adults, around their early 20s, spot Rock and Revy and proceed to laugh. Revy notices this and starts yelling "Hey, the fuck you looking at me for?! You won't be fucking laughing when your teeth are up your ass sideways!" The two Vietnamese locals give Revy dirty looks and walk past her. Rock drags her along and says "Revy, you are a Chinese-American in Vietnam, and a tourist on top of it all. Do you want to start something? The only way they could hate you more is if you started cursing them out in French." As the two walk near their motel, Revy sarcastically laughs and says "Maybe I do want to start some shit." She turns her head and focuses on the two locals, who are now a few meters away, yelling "HEY YOU! SACRE BLEU, UHH…SACRE BLEU THIS!" She grabs onto her crotch and leans her pelvis forward as the two Vietnamese locals watch and burst out into laughter. Rock shakes his head and mutters "Well that achieved roughly jack-shit."

He drags Revy into their motel room and lets her lie down sprawled on the bed. Starting to sober up, she immediately climbs off the bed and heads into the bathroom, as Rock removes his shoes, dress shirt, and pants. He removes his socks as Revy exits the bathroom in her sleeveless grey shirt and white underwear. She spots Rock, face down on the bed, and smirks, approaching him. She climbs onto his back and says "It's only 11 P.M., Rocky boy. You want to watch a movie or…"

Rock groans loudly and grimaces, slightly flailing his arms. Revy rolls her eyes and says "Alright Rock…you've been acting like Abe Vigoda crawled up your ass and croaked. What's wrong Rock? Say whatever you want to say." Rock exhales a deep breath and says "Okay…I guess. This whole work with the illegal dumping and the toxic gas…it has me thinking." Revy laughs and says "Rock…I was joking about the saving the environment thing earlier." Rock turns to Revy and says with a stern look "Revy, my grandparents died from Minamata Disease." Revy raises her shoulders and asks "What the hell is that? And didn't you say that your grandpa died of a heart attack?"

Rock sighs once again and says "This factory in Japan was dumping mercury waste into a bay. Every summer from 1946 until 1956 when the disease was discovered, my grandparents would vacation there. They would eat the fish locally brought from the contaminated waters without realizing it. By the time my grandfather was 60, he was already losing the feeling in his arms and would have sporadic muscle spasms. My grandmother, who ate the fish more frequently, had her arms crippled and her hearing lost, until one day, she became insane and had to be institutionalized. She died shortly afterwards…which I think contributed to my grandfathers heart attack, along with everything else that he suffered through. And yet here I am, helping someone ruin the lives of people in not too different ways, and it's strange. Like I care, but I don't want to, and I don't care, and I want to."

Revy rubs Rock's neck and says "Yea, that's fucked up. But we don't know anyone here, so who cares. Who are they to us, and who are we to them? Money is money, whatever the fuck Marty is doing, that's on him." Rock mutters a "Hmph", followed by saying "It's that easy to rationalize it? Just like that?" Revy smirks and says "50 grand…at least. Split four ways, that's 25 grand for us. We come in, we do what we got to do, and we get out. Marty is doing the real polluting, not us." Rock smiles and says "That is a lot of money in a short time." Revy climbs off Rock and pressed herself against his left ribs, saying "So relax, okay?" Rock turns to Revy and places his left arm on her back, smiling, saying "Alright, I'll try to relax. Might as well start now."


	5. Vũng Tàu '98

Sighing as his call goes to voicemail once again, Dutch fishes out a few U.S. quarters out of his pants pockets. Dressed in a sleeveless diamond patterned t-shirt that alternates in dark blue and light blue diamonds, his flak jacket, a pair of jeans, his belt buckle, and combat boots, he drops a few quarters into a side feed and proceeds to dial several numbers. He takes a look at his stainless steel watch and checks that it is 11:29 A.M. Dutch stares blankly at the booth connected to the phone, with illegible graffiti hanging right above it on a wooden plane, flanked by scratched, see-through glass. Suddenly, Dutch hears on the other line "Hello?"

"It's me Roscoe. I called twice with my cell phone but you didn't answer," Dutch calmly says. Roscoe, caught off guard, lies "Oh, I was uh…out. I heard a noise outside and went to check it out." Dutch sighs and says "Roscoe, if you don't want to talk, I understand if…" Suddenly, Roscoe immediately cuts Dutch off and yells "Understand?! No Marion, you don't understand shit! You selfish, egotistical, punk! You want me to talk? Okay, I'll talk! I'll tell you what I have been meaning to say ever since you ditched me in Indonesia! And don't you go say that I wouldn't tell you this in person, because I would gladly repeat every fucking syllable in your face! You want to hear?!"

Dutch sighs and says "Roscoe, that was almost twenty years ago. I've changed. I was an idiot. I wouldn…" Roscoe cuts Dutch off again, yelling "Does it look like I give a damn?! Whoever you are is the problem of your crew, not me, because you left me in a country where I didn't even speak their goddamn language! So all I remember about you is that you dragged us out of the Black Panthers and ruined 9 years of our lives! Let me ask you something…Dutch. Let me ask you something. Where were you, on July 24th, 1967?!"

Dutch groans and says "Of course you know where we were at that time. Do you think I would forget watching swine cops and cracker guardsmen shoot everyone that moved?! Do you think I would forget us being held in the precinct and getting beaten nearly unconscious just for walking down the street?! What do you expect me to say?!" Roscoe immediately raises his voice, saying "Then what the hell did you see?! Cause all you seemed to talk about was gun rights and the evils of capitalism while I saw my neighbors attacking each other and being killed by pig cops over hunks of meat in grocery stores! Sure, did I shed a tear when any of those racist pigs croaked? Hell no! But if you think I dropped out of high school to go to Oakland with you because of stupid ideological bullcrap, then you're full of it! When we were giving out breakfasts in Oakland to the kids, and that little girl cried and told me that she hadn't had a hot meal in over a month while I served her bacon and eggs, that was one of the most emotional and humbling experiences in my life! You know why? Because not too long ago, I was that little girl! And what did I see when I turned my head for just one second?! Huh?! I saw you annoying Michael Farragut over some bullshit that Mao Zedong wrote while Michael was frying up eggs for starving children, you selfish asshole! You think the point of it all was those little red books?! I could spit on those books, right now! We had twenty-something important books to read and you had to pick that stupid piece of scrap to treat as your little bible! When I looked at the Black Panthers and what they represented, I saw community empowerment and economic liberation, and all the fuck you saw was a beret and a shotgun!"

Suddenly, Dutch overhears a woman speaking on the other line, faintly. The phone close enough for Dutch to overhear, Roscoe says in English and Thai "Angkhana, pohm khartow (I'm sorry)! It's an important call, Angkhana! Excuse me!" Roscoe returns to Dutch and says "You know what?! It's useless anyway!" Dutch groans loudly and says "Roscoe, you know what happened to my father." Roscoe suddenly starts sarcastically laughing, yelling "Ha, your father? Your father was a wife beating scumbag who had the extremely good fortune to have a college education and a nice engineering job during the Jim Crow years. And when the Japanese started selling their cars in America, he got laid off and couldn't cope with the fact that he became redundant, so he curled up with a bottle of liquor in his hands and drank himself into hell. I don't know what the hell you saw in your old man, because I saw him for what he was ever since I came over to your 'new' place in Detroit for the first time. It was no 'fallacy' of capitalism that caused your dad to lose his job. He, after all the grief he caused your mother, and don't bullshit me because I could see what was going on, finally got the karma he deserved for being the miserable human being that he was and quite possibly still is! And your mom? Oh wow, what the hell, Marion?! You're the only person she had left, and you actually had the nerve to abandon her like that?! What kind of person are you?!"

Dutch bears Roscoe's comments and simply replies "Roscoe, please don't bring my parents into this." Roscoe angrily chuckles and says "Hey, you're the one who brought them up! And might I add that when I was in Oakland with you, I actually wrote back to my folks to let them know that I was still fine! That I was still alive! And when I stupidly enlisted with you on your little journey to Mao-land, I still wrote back to them. And now I can't even visit them in America or else I'll get arrested for desertion! Hell, they probably think I'm dead, and maybe it's best that they'll think just that! And maybe I am dead! You ever knew how pulling a cold turkey from a serious opium addiction feels like?! It ain't a massage, Marion! And I never developed a habit until I had to cope with the stress of having someone from either Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, or the U.S. suddenly appear in wherever the fuck we were after we deserted, and then have us jailed or killed. And the former happened anyway! Marion, did you know that those Cambodian prison guard punks were dangling opium in front of my cell just to screw with me?! Lord Almighty, I hate you and your guts! And I hate myself for looking up to you for all this time! We had a beautiful thing going on in the Black Panthers, we were doing so much good! And we even had a good thing going on with the USMC! We could have just served our time there and collected that nice bonus and all the benefits, the war was winding down! Why the hell did you pull us from that?! WHY?!"

Suddenly, Dutch hears a woman crying hysterically on Roscoe's end, as Roscoe says "Angkhana! I'm sorry I raised my voice. Don't cry Angkhana, please calm down. Angkhana!" Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming itself on its frame resonates on Roscoe's end of the line, shortly followed by Roscoe, a few tears rolling down his cheeks, yelling "See what you did…Dutch?! You selfish, disgusting punk! You're in Vietnam right?! Then stay there, there's your Maoist-Marxist Leninist paradise! Live in it! Breathe in it! Just leave me and my life alone! BYE!" Dutch suddenly hears the connection die. He heaves a deep sigh, turns around with the phone still in his hand, and then suddenly launches the phone at the space between the dials and the glass walls, the phone bouncing a couple of times before dangling in mid-air. He turns around once again, only to realize that someone rudely parked a bicycle right in front of him. He swings his right leg back and considers kicking the bike, only to restrain himself and step over it. A few locals stare at the phone booth and give Dutch dirty looks. He ignores them as he fishes for a pack of cigarettes.

Cigarette in his mouth, burning, Dutch steps into the lobby of the motel. He turns to the manager and says "Hello." The manager waves at Dutch in acknowledgement, his attention focused on a copy of the Indochina Daily. Walking up the steps, he turns toward his room. He pulls out a key and opens the door, stepping inside. Finding the room devoid of human life, he scratches his bald head and turns toward Rock's and Revy's room. In front of their door, he knocks twice, taking a drag of his cigarette.

The door swings open, revealing Rock, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt, beige shorts, and sandals. His hair is completely disheveled. Behind Rock, lying on the bed, Revy watches television, dressed in a black tank top, her lower body covered by the bed sheets. Dutch steps inside and turns toward an ashtray near the TV. He says "Hey" to Revy as he knocks some ash off the cigarette, placing the cigarette on the tray. "Hey Dutch," Revy replies, her eyes glued to the TV. The TV is showing a BBC broadcast, with a Pakistani woman with long hair, dressed in a dark purple buttoned dress shirt, speaking to the audience. The news anchor says _"More details are coming to light in the recent assassination of Ulster Loyalist and suspected terrorist, William 'Billy' Wright. Mr. Wright, sometimes known as 'King Rat', was gunned down by three assailants in a brazen shooting inside Her Majesty's Prison Maze, in Maze, Northern Ireland. The three assailants were convicted felons and members of the Irish National Liberation Party. Mr. Wright was the suspected ringleader of the Loyalist Volunteer Force, a breakaway faction of the Ulster Volunteer Force and a designated terrorist organization. Mr. Wright's funeral was concluded in the 30_ _th_ _of last December. Intelligence agencies are abuzz over who will claim leadership of the LVF, as the ongoing crisis in Northern Ireland continues."_

"What happened to Benny? Where is he?" Dutch asks, staring at the news broadcast. "He left with Ippolito at 9. He said that they are taking the torpedo boat to Saigon," Rock calmly replies, heading to the bathroom. "I see. I've been up since 8. I found a few nice restaurants nearby…including an Italian bistro four blocks away," Dutch blurts out as the TV continues its broadcast. Revy nods and continues to listen to the news anchor, who says " _The Hong Kong government continues its mass slaughter of all its chickens in its labors to prevent the spread of a strain of influenza. The Hong Kong government claims that this is not an overreaction. The densely populated Chinese territory is still reeling from the effects of the 1968 outbreak of influenza virus, which spread from Hong Kong and Vietnam to as far as Japan and the United States, claiming upwards of a million lives in the process."_

"Hey Dutch, I got a question," Revy says, yawning. As Rock exits the bathroom, his hair combed to how it usually is, Dutch says "Yeah? Go on." "If you kill an animal that has a virus, and then cook it, doesn't the cooking kill the virus?" Revy inquires, watching the TV flash images of chickens being slaughtered by people in scrubs and face masks. Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "Beats me." "Rock? Do you know?" Revy asks. Rock yawns, exiting the bathroom, and replies "I have no idea." Revy nods once and says "Thanks." She blinks at the TV as the news anchor continues _"In news from Africa, reports are coming in of another massacre in Algeria. The war-torn nation, who has been embroiled in a civil war since December of 1991, reports at least a hundred killed in the villages of Had Chekala, Remka, and Ain Tarik, with more casualties being reported by the hour. The village of Had Chekala reports no survivors as suspected GIA guerrillas set fire to the village, razing it to the ground. Four years ago, the GIA, a radical Islamic terrorist organization, hijacked an aircraft with the intent to crash the aircraft into the Eiffel Tower. The plot was foiled when French Special Forces raided the aircraft in Marseille Provence Airport, killing all four hijackers. The GIA has been responsible for several massacres on Algerian soil, including the recent massacre of the 30_ _th_ _of last December, in which estimates of between 250 and 400 men, women, and children of all ages, were indiscriminately slaughtered with knives and axes. Villagers have fled the area as violence is expected to continue in another bloody chapter of the Algerian Civil War."_

"400 people, in one day. Imagine that," Revy mutters, climbing out of her bed. She reaches for her corduroy shorts and puts them on, as someone knocks on the door. Dutch turns toward the door as Revy casually steps into the bathroom. Opening the door, Dutch meets eye to eye with Ngoc, who is dressed in a blue and white horizontally stripped t-shirt, dark green shorts, and grey sandals. She adjusts her eyeglasses on her nose and says "Sao rồi (What's up)? It's time." Rock approaches the doorway as Dutch asks "You mean the transport to Saigon?" Ngoc nods and says "Car is outside. It's a Ford Telstar hatchback."

A Ford Telstar hatchback passes a large fuel truck, cruising down the Xa lộ Hà Nội (Hanoi Highway). Inside, Ngoc sits on the driver seat, her driver side window rolled down. Next to her, Vibol, dressed in a green t-shirt and brown shorts, stares out of his front side passenger window, visibly bored. Behind Vibol, Dutch stares out his rear side window, his eyes glued toward a large, white, rectangular five floor building with several white and grey columns embedded within it. Revy, dressed in her black tank top and corduroy shorts, her Cutlasses in her shoulder holsters, stares blankly out of her window, seated behind Ngoc. Rock, dressed in a salaryman dress shirt and black dress pants, his Uzi in a holster strap on his left shoulder, sleeps on Revy's right shoulder, the left side of his head leaning against her right shoulder. A small blue luggage case sits on the back seat between Rock and Dutch. Dutch gives a quick, confused glance to Rock and Revy, and then turns to Ngoc, asking "Hey, what's that building on the right? The one with the columns."

Ngoc looks right and immediately says "Oh. That's the Ho Chi Minh City branch campus of the Vietnam National University. I have a nephew that goes there." Dutch smirks to himself and says "A university…wow. Some of the fellow marines told me stories of Saigon. To think that that was only 25 years ago, a massive warzone, and now look at how it is." Ngoc nods and says "Yea. After the civil war, the south got rebuilt and developed fast. Ho Chi Minh City is one of the fastest growing cities in the world. I say that in two decades, it will rival Singapore, Mexico City, and Los Angeles. And this is despite the reeducation camps and the war with Cambodia. To think that I was fighting not so far away from here, almost 30 years ago."

Dutch glares at Ngoc curiously and asks "Were you ARVN?" Ngoc shakes her head and says "NVA. Fought against the Australians near Bình Dương Providence. Flechette gun cắt giảm tai tôi (cut my ear), notice the missing part of ear." Dutch surveys Ngoc and, after a short pause, asks "How old are you?" Ngoc sighs and says "I'm 43. I was 13 when I first fought in the civil war. Youth shock brigade, they called it. Sending children to fight in the war…was considered morale support." "What the hell?! They were sending kids out?! We were shooting at kids during the war?!" Dutch exclaims in shock, causing Rock to wake up. Vibol turns around and glances at Dutch in confusion, as Revy does the same. Ngoc nods and blankly says "Yeah, some. A lot of little girls fought for the north on front lines. I was one of them."

Rock groggily glares at Dutch, the latter rubbing his forehead in disgust. "And your friend here?" Dutch asks, motioning at Vibol. Ngoc smirks and says "Nah, a Vietnamese speaking Cambodian who worked on a farm. Left Cambodia to Vietnam. Didn't fight anyone." Vibol glares at Ngoc and asks "Bạn đang nói về cái gì (What are you talking about)?" Ngoc smiles and shakes her head, saying "Không gì (Nothing). Đi ngủ trở lại (Go back to sleep)."

The Ford Telstar continues on the highway, passing a tall stone obelisk standing near the highway. It turns right and exits the highway, entering Võ Văn Ngân Street. Flanked by mopeds and the occasional truck, the Ford Telstar enters a residential neighborhood. As the car passes a large basketball court and a three floor brick high school, Ngoc blurts out "Welcome to Ho Chi Minh City." Rock rubs his eyes and glances out of Revy's window, saying "The sky is grey. Looks like it might rain soon."

Vibol points at the sky and struggles to say "Rain is rare in winter. More in summer. Sorry, English not my language." Rock nods in understanding and turns his attention to a small statue of the Virgin Mary embedded in a rock formation, the rock formation enclosed behind a white fence. Behind the rock formation is a reddish pink colored cathedral. "That cathedral is almost a century old. Ha, I should work in tourism," Ngoc chuckles to herself. The residential homes soon give way to rows upon rows of restaurants, shops, and motorcycles blocking the doorless entrance to said restaurants and shops. Võ Văn Ngân Street becomes Tô Ngọc Vân Street as the Ford Telstar is completely flanked by shops. Rock laughs and says "Saigon hasn't changed much since I last was here. You see that food court? The one with all those street vendors? I once had noodles with snails over there, vermicelli noodles I think. I am convinced that I was charged twice what most people pay, but it was so good that I didn't even mind. And that shop with all the fake watches is still around! I haven't been here since 1993, yet everything's coming back."

"Took a vacation here?" Ngoc asks, passing a grey truck that is in double parking. Rock shakes his head and says "Business. A couple of business trips. My first ones. Have to admit that I didn't mind my visits here as much as the other trips. When I first worked for my company, we sourced our aluminum and bauxite from a supplier based in Vũng Tàu. We later switched to suppliers in Venezuela and Colombia…higher quality material." Ngoc grimaces and says "That is a shame. Despite the recession and the loss of the Soviet Union, Vietnam's economy is doing well, hơn hoặc ít hơn (more or less). How's Thailand?"

Rock chuckles and says "Well…it's not like it's a problem for our line of work. I noticed that the 'industry' we work in is recession-proof." Ngoc smiles out of amusement and says "That's true." The Ford Telstar approaches an intersection and stops by a red light. As the light turns green, the Telstar turns right onto Đường A Street. Entering a mini-industrial district of Ho Chi Minh City, the Telstar is flanked by large warehouses and cement factories. The Telstar turns left on Đường số 2, a side street filled with warehouse buildings. The Telstar turns left again, entering the premises of a long, three floor brick warehouse with an oval-like grey roof. The Telstar drives between the warehouse and a chain link fence separating the warehouse from a similar looking building. The car drives to the rear of the warehouse as a Vietnamese man with bushy black hair split in the middle, a faint moustache, and a thick chinstrap beard, sticks himself out of a window on the 2nd floor of the warehouse. He is dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and black shorts, and holds a Steyr Aug bullpup assault rifle, looking at the Telstar through the scope. Verifying the occupants, he pulls himself out of the window and out of sight.

The Ford Telstar parks itself in a lot behind the warehouse, the car wedged between a grey Ford Explorer and an eight generation red Toyota Corolla. A few Yamaha TZR250 motorcycles fill up spots in the lot, varying in colors from red and white to green and yellow. Two grey Ford Club Wagon vans fill up spots at a far end of the lot. Ngoc turns to Black Lagoon Company and says "We're here."

Rock removes his shoulder strap, Uzi still in it, and carefully places it inside the blue luggage case. Revy removes her Cutlasses and follows suit. Sealing the luggage case, Revy exits the car as Rock follows. Dutch then exits from the car as Ngoc and Vibol shortly exit afterwards. After shutting her door, she locks the car and turns toward a metallic door leading to the rear of the building.

Approaching the door, Ngoc knocks four times using the knuckles of her right hand. Vibol walks closer to Ngoc and scratches his nose, as Rock tugs the luggage case full of guns off the parking lot and closer to the door. The door swings inward as a bald, slightly chubby Vietnamese man, dressed in a partially unzipped black Adidas tracksuit with yellow horizontal stripes along the top and vertical stripes along the sides of the bottom, a white undershirt, blue sneakers, and a gold chain hanging from his neck, peeks through the gap. He then immediately sticks his head out, Browning Hi-Power pistol in right hand, and jerks his head left and right like an iguana, scanning the perimeter. Appearing to be high off something, he hurriedly yells "Đi, đi đi! Nhận được trong! (Go, go go! Get in!)"

Ngoc funnels through the doorway, as Vibol and Rock follow suit. Dutch and Revy then proceed to step in when suddenly the tracksuit wearing Vietnamese man yells out "IN! IN, IN, IN!" Revy turns around yells at the man "SHUT! FUCK! UP! THANK! YOU!" The Vietnamese man shakes his head in anger and locks the door behind himself, as Black Lagoon Company proceeds to survey a warehouse full of lumber.

Rock sniffs the air, registering the scent of paved wood, coupled with a hint of powder cocaine. On the middle left of the warehouse, wedged between two shelves full of paved wood, Rock spots a group of four Vietnamese men and a Vietnamese woman seated around a table, the table partially covered in trays of powder cocaine. They converse amongst each other in Vietnamese, occasional alternating between sips of beer and rare snorts of cocaine. A couple Vietnamese men and a Vietnamese woman patrols the 2nd floor above, a rectangular metal catwalk with rails, with a single catwalk running through the middle of the rest of the catwalk, forming the essence of a 2nd floor. One of the Vietnamese men, the one who poked his head out the window, holds a Steyr Aug rifle as the other Vietnamese man and the Vietnamese woman each patrol with a Galil Assault Rifle. On the right, almost across from the table with the cocaine, Marty and Ippolito watch a BBC broadcast on television, seated on a red leather couch. The former is dressed in a pink, partially unbuttoned dress shirt slightly stained in barbeque sauce, green shorts, and sandals, while the later is dressed in his S.S.C. Napoli jersey, grey jeans, and white tennis shoes. Standing up behind the sofa, Tuyết watches the TV broadcast with a blank look on her face, dressed in a sleeveless burgundy shirt, black athletic shorts with tiny grey dots on the shorts, and sandals.

Marty lightly punches Ippolito on his right shoulder and says "Ya hear about the news with that U.S. president, Bill Clinton?" Ippolito sips from a can of Heineken and asks "You talking bout that Jones lady lawsuit?" Marty nods and says "Makes me fucking envious. Canadian politics don't get shit as entertaining as that. What did Jean Chrétien do lately? All the fuck he did was choke some schmuck from Quebec!" Ippolito blankly stares at Marty and asks "Are you actually suggesting that you want to see our prime minister in a sex scandal? I am seriously not enjoying the images in my head." Marty laughs and takes a sip from his own can of Heineken, saying "Now, when you look at Adriano Celentano…"

"Again with this Adriano Celentano! Look Marty, I get it, he makes good music, but your obsession is starting to get freaky, as in restraining order freaky," Ippolito cuts Marty off, shaking his head. Marty laughs and says "Tell me Nicky. I'll give you 50 bucks American if you could name a Milanese older then Celentano that could seduce the ladies better then he could. 50 bucks…do it!" Ippolito grabs his beer off the ground and casually takes a sip. Setting the beer down, he calmly answers "Silvio Berlusconi." "Motherfucker," Marty hisses, pulling $50 out of his pocket and handing it to Ippolito, as Tuyết watches in amusement.

"Hey Marty! You think you're so fucking smart, you deadbeat sack of shit?!" Revy yells out, strolling toward Marty with an angry smile on her face, her eyes twitching. Marty laughs and says "Ya like those names I got you all?! Took me half an hour to put them together. Now your's and Rocco's was a bitch to come up with, but Benny's and Dutch's names took a minute. Ha, grab a beer, we're all just killing some time." Revy glares angrily at Marty, pointing her right index finger at his face, only to capitulate and turn toward a cooler full of ice and Heineken beer stocked in both can and bottle forms. She grabs a can and opens it, taking a sip, as Dutch turns to Marty and asks "Where's Benny?"

Ippolito raises his hand and says "Hey, your friend is in the city. Since he's getting paid like you three but ain't sticking his neck out, he's designated delivery boy. We got some food for you three as well, enough for everyone." Tuyết suddenly blurts out "He better not scratch my car." Dutch smirks and placates "Benny's a good driver, don't worry." Rock brings the case of guns toward the sofa and leaves them there, saying "The guns and holsters. Since Vietnam doesn't allow open carry."

Marty stares blankly at Rock and says "What guns? What models? All three of you, tell me what you got." Revy points at the case and says "I got a pair of Beretta 92s…FS variants…customized. Also brought an MP5A3 along. Rock carries an M9 and brought an Uzi along." Dutch lifts his shirt and exposes his waist, revealing his Smith & Wesson 629. Marty sighs and says "At least two of the guns work out. You all going to be hitting Van Thirith in Vietnamese Secret Police getups. You are going to need the guns to match, so to not make it look fishy. Don't worry, Thinh Nguyễn got us covered. He's one of the guys snorting coke, the one in the light blue buttoned shirt. The guy next to the woman, with the combed, graying, reclining hair and the thick, wiry moustache and the drooping, unkempt beard. So yea, you going to be using CZ-52s and CZ-75s for pistols. Uzis and MP5s are good for submachine guns. For rifles, they use AKS-74Us. That part is pretty standard."

"And shotguns?" Dutch inquires. Marty shakes his head and says "Never heard of them using any. Tough luck." "I never fired from a CZ-something pistol…" Rock pensively mutters. Marty turns around and yells at the table "Hey Thinh! This guy here wants a go at the shooting range for practice!" Thinh, wearing a light blue buttoned shirt with dark blue lotus drawings displayed in horizontal lines on the shirt, black slacks, and grey tennis shoes, yells out "Hey! Maybe later, got to get it set up. Tell him to wait! Oh Marty, I got to ask, where the fuck do you get this stuff from! Cause this coke is something else!"

Marty laughs and yells "Yeah, I'll tell ya, cause I really want my supplier to cut me out of the loop! That'll be fucking smart! Nah, seriously, we got a guy in Colombia that gets the coke direct from the source. The entire organization and chain of organizations get it from Colombia through that guy, so it's all the same. I charge just as much as my friends in Australia, so don't get any ideas. And that stuff hasn't been cut yet. So fucking enjoy, alright! Haha!" Thinh chuckles and points a rolled up, cocaine covered 1000 dong note at Marty.

Rock reaches into the cooler and grabs a can of Heineken as Dutch does the same. He opens the can and takes a sip, as a commercial appears on the TV. The commercial, showing a middle-aged balding Vietnamese man in a black sports jacket and grey sweater, advertises a "Thành Phố Hồ Chí Minh Điện Tử (Ho Chi Minh City Electronics)." The commercial shows the man yelling frantically in Vietnamese as TV sets explode in the background. Ippolito breaks out into hysterically laughter and says "Marone (Madonna)! I thought I'd never see a commercial like that again!"

Revy lightly chuckles and asks "You talking about the Crazy Eddie commercials?" Ippolito calms down his laughter and says "Talking about about it? I worked there!" Marty suddenly blurts out "Worked there? You got FIRED from there!" Revy glares at Ippolito in shock and says "From Crazy Eddies?! What the fuck, they were run by circus animals! I robbed a Crazy Eddie in Manhattan once! The owner had his iguana dressed like a security guard and left it there! How the fuck you pull that off?!" Ippolito takes a sip of Heineken and sighs, saying "I worked in sales at the store in Rochester, NY. I was attending college there as a Canadian on a student visa, before I flunked out, and I worked in that store for some extra cash. Now I know a bit bout electronics, but a customer asked me about some camera, and don't know shit about cameras. I ended up saying some bullshit to the customer that my manager overheard, and so to avoid fraud, he stepped in and had me fired. Yeah, talk about fucking irony." Revy bursts into laughter and raises her can of beer in the air, saying "Fucking A, you said it!"

Suddenly, a knock is heard from the rear entrance. The bald, black tracksuit wearing Vietnamese man opens the door and lets a man in, the latter carrying three plastic bags in each hand. He slowly and carefully approaches Thinh's table, nodding at Black Lagoon Company when they are in sight. "I got phở, bánh canh, spring rolls, some rice and noodle meals that I don't even know the names for…oh yeah, and a few of these weirdass po' boy sandwiches. Careful…the soups are still hot," Benny speaks out to everyone in the warehouse. He sets the bags of food on the ground and watches as the bald henchman grab one of the bags. Two Vietnamese men approach Benny and each grab two of the bags. A Vietnamese woman, previously snorting coke with Thinh, sporting shoulder length black hair with a gap running through the middle of her hair, and dressed in a purple t-shirt and blue jeans, approaches Benny and grabs the remaining one. Thinh turns to the Vietnamese woman with the bag and says "Quyen! Hai bảng từ tủ (Two tables from the cabinet)!" Thinh turns toward the bald Vietnamese man and yells "Loan! Trợ giúp Quyền (Help Quyen)!" Loan nods at Quyen as the two head to the back of the warehouse.

Black Lagoon Company seats themselves at a table near the sofa and TV, an array of soups, rolls, rice plates, and sandwiches in front of them. Rock is seated at one long end of the table, with Revy seated to his right, Dutch seated to the right of Revy, and Benny seated to the right of Dutch. Next to Benny on the short end, Marty bites down on a submarine sandwich containing pork liver spread, pickled carrots, cucumbers, cilantro, mint, and mayo. He struggles to swallow the sandwich and mutters out "Jesus fucking Christ…what the fuck is this mystery sandwich?" Seated next to Marty, and across from Benny, Tuyết bites down on an identical sandwich and says "Bánh mì…French food meets Vietnamese cuisine. And I don't know, I always liked these sandwiches." Seated to the right of Tuyết, Ngoc takes a bite into her spring roll. To the right of Ngoc, Vibol picks up vermicelli noodles with his chopsticks. Ippolito, seated to the right Vibol, suddenly blurts out "That's because you don't know any better!"

Revy, Dutch, and Marty all start laughing as Rock takes a sip of Heineken. He says "I've eaten in three continents, Asia, South America, and Europe. I actually like Vietnamese food, even still." Marty points his sandwich at Rock and says "You are seriously telling me that you like this shit…what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Rock glares at Marty's sandwich for a few seconds, and then says "Oh, those baguettes? They are disgusting!" Revy, Dutch, Benny, and Ippolito all join in another round of laughter as Tuyết rolls her eyes. Marty, slightly annoyed, glares at Ippolito and says "Oh wipe that shit eating grin off your face, why don't ya?" Tuyết sighs in annoyance and says "Marty, we are eating here." Marty grumbles incoherently under his breath and reaches for an unopened tray of cơm tấm. He opens the tray and grumbles further, holding his chopsticks clumsily in his hands. He sets them down and turns toward a table a few meters away from theirs, seated by Thinh and his gangsters. Marty yells out "Hey Thinh! Can I borrow a fork?! Thanks!"

Suddenly, a white plastic fork flies through the air and onto the table, landing in Benny's bowl of phở. Benny sighs and rolls his eyes, saying "Can I enjoy my meal in peace?" He pulls the fork out of his soup and places it next to Marty's plate. Marty wipes the fork with the bottom of his shirt and says "Hey Thinh. It landed in this guy's soup. You should try out for the Mets." Thinh waves Marty off and returns to his meal as Rock cracks a few laughs.

Marty plunges his fork into a web of vermicelli noodles and twists it. He scoops the noodles up, collecting rice and shredded carrots along the way. Taking a bite of the noodles, he reaches for his can of Heineken and washes it down. Rock, glancing at Marty's discarded sandwich, sighs and says "I miss the katsu sando at the nearby convenience store, back in Tokyo. It was the usual after-work meal as I went back home. Pork cutlet…shredded lettuce…what you Americans would call barbeque sauce…and bread slices without the crust. Microwave it and you are set." Marty points his fork at Rock and says "That reminds me…heard about Takahashi?"

"What about?" Revy says, chewing on shredded pork, her chopsticks in her phở. Marty smirks and says "Now…apparently some Korean with more balls then brains held the son of a bitch at gun point. This was last Wednesday. The Korean got into Takahashi's face and put his gun to his forehead." Revy, Dutch, Rock, and Benny all lean forward, their eyes glued toward Marty. Marty continues "The Korean tried to shake him down…said something about killing someone close to Takahashi unless he pays up…and I mean 6 figure cash. Again, this was last Wednesday. Yesterday, they found the Korean up in Bangkok…BISECTED in half." "Oh fuck!" Revy swears out in shock as Rock stares at Marty in stunned silence. Revy turns to Rock and says "I don't think Takahashi has it in him…I say it was Songxie who gave the order." Rock raises his left hand and says "You never know." Marty chuckles and says "They checked the Korean's stomach…didn't find any stray dogs." Rock rolls his eyes and bangs his hands against the table, saying "Marty, that is just disgusting. I haven't finished eating yet." Marty laughs and says "Oh that ain't the best part. I found out today in the morning…they found one of Takahashi's men in Roanapur. His stomach cut open and his guts all over the floor…" Tuyết stands up and raises her mostly eaten sandwich in the air, saying "Anyone want to finish this?"

Ngoc and Rock smirks as Dutch says "Sounds like another gang war is brewing...Takahashi and the Koreans. More reason why I am happy that Black Lagoon Company stays neutral when not on the job." "Oh I envy that part about you all!" Marty suddenly blurts out. Ippolito and Marty nod in solemn agreement as Rock takes the moment to observe how violent criminals eat lunch and socialize like ordinary people, topics of discussion notwithstanding. He stares somberly at his mostly eaten bánh canh…almost momentarily detached from everyone else. He thinks to himself _"We all could die in a few hours…yet everyone is enjoying themselves…cocaine or not."_ Suddenly, his thought process is interrupted by Marty, who says "Hey Rocco…go take a hit of the coke. You're acting like it's 'Weekend at Bernie's'." Rock waves his right hand left and right and says "I'm alright. Alcohol is my habit."

Suddenly, Thinh approaches the table and says "You…you want the firing range? Some practice? Follow me." Rock nods and gets up, saying "If you'll excuse me." He nods at Black Lagoon Company and follows Thinh into a side door near the TV. Thinh steps into a cramped, dimly lit stairway leading both upstairs and to the basement. He turns toward the basement steps as Rock follows suit. Reaching the basement floor, Thinh turns on a switch, illuminating the stairway. He turns to Rock and says "We have a shooting range here…just something to kill time. Sometimes we sell guns…let the client test them out here."

Rock nods and says "That makes sense. I'm guessing you own the whole warehouse." Thinh nods and says "Yeah, and the lumber mill nearby. Good way to wash the money." "I follow. We in Black Lagoon Company don't have as much a problem with that, outside of storing money in the bank," Rock nonchalantly blurts out. Thinh sighs and says "The pros and cons of working as an independent contractor in our line of work. Less risk…less money."

Thinh opens a nearby door and steps into a dark room. He flips a switch, illuminating the room and revealing an expansive shooting range, with the range on the right and the armory on the left. Rock scratches the back of his head and asks "How do you know that we are independent contractors? Marty told you?" Thinh nods and says "Yeah, though it wasn't hard to tell. So…you Viet? Bạn có nói tiếng Việt (Do you speak Vietnamese)?" Rock shakes his head and says "I know some Vietnamese. Một chút (A bit of), một vài từ (some words), một số cụm từ (some phrases). I'm actually Japanese, born and raised." Thinh nods in surprise and says "Oh Japanese? Interesting. Your friend there too?" Rock shakes his head and says "She's a Chinese American." Thinh laughs and says "Not the best combination in this country. No worry, I personally got nothing against the Chinese, and I did business with the Americans during the civil war. Tôi không cung cấp cho một cứt về sự kiện hiện tại (I don't really give a shit about current events). Don't care…money is money."

"You fought with the ARVN?" Rock asks. Thinh cracks a smile and says "Yea, with…not for. Fucking communists…they took me in Saigon…put me in 'reeducation.' I was one of those sentenced to mine sweeping work. I think they hoped that I would have died on the job…đụ (fuck). I got out in 78…3 years of my life…gone, and that's because I had money to bribe." Rock nods and says "I take it that you are looking forward to watching the Tổng Cục II getting humiliated and Chù Thanh Hoàng getting ruined." Thinh glares at Rock with a slightly angered look and says "Looking forward? My dick is harder than actual fucking diamonds, just thinking about it." Rock takes a step back and says "That's one way to put it."

Thinh climbs over a wooden counter that divides the shooting range from the rest of the room. He approaches an opened crate and reaches inside, pulling out several long sheets. He reaches for a nearby ladder and grabs it with his left hand. Setting the ladder on the range, Thinh climbs it and fastens one of the white sheets to a hook hanging from the roof. He steps down the ladder and moves it several meters to the left of the sheet, revealed to be a target sheet of Hồ Chí Minh. Rock laughs in amusement as Thinh hangs another sheet on a nearby hook, this time a target sheet of legendary NVA general Giáp Nguyên Võ, dressed in military attire. Thinh proceeds to set up four more sheets, an identical sheet of Hồ Chí Minh, one of former General Secretary of the Communist Party Trường Chinh, another identical sheet of Hồ Chí Minh, and lastly, a target sheet of a generic cartoon drawn white man in a sweater aiming a revolver at the onlooker. Amused, Rock yells out "Thinh! I think we have a spy here!"

Thinh bursts out in laughter as he carries the ladder back to where the crate was. He points at a target sheet of Hồ Chí Minh and says "I buy these sheets from a friend of mine. He makes them…well copies them from other people. Sometimes I pay extra for special orders…like you see. Only I get them, he won't sell them to anyone else for obvious reasons. Apparently he himself has a friend in America that designs these 'special' target sheets in San Francisco. They are popular." "I wonder why," Rock sarcastically mutters. As Thinh climbs over the wooden counter, Rock says "I want practice with the CZ…whatever it's called. Marty says I have to use them for the Van Thirith job, and I only have shot from an M9." Thinh snaps his fingers several times, trying to think. After a pause, he says "The CZ-75 is a bit similar to the M9, uses the same ammunition. You either use that or the CZ-52. CZ-52 is an old gun, and it uses rare Tokarev bullets. Stick with the CZ-75…I don't think anyone in the secret police uses the old CZ-52 anymore."

Thinh approaches a gun cabinet, fishing a key out of his pocket. He unlocks the cabinet, grabs a CZ-75 pistol and a case of 9mm ammunition, and turns toward the counter. Facing the first target sheet from the right, Thinh places the gun and case of ammunition on the counter and turns to Rock. He takes a few steps back and says "Have fun." Rock approaches the gun pensively, grabs onto the grip, and after some fiddling, ejects the gun's magazine. He checks that the magazine is already full, reinserts it, and pulls back on the slide, discovering a bullet already in the chamber. As Thinh steps back, Rock aims the CZ-75 and aligns Hồ Chí Minh onto the sights, gripping onto the gun with both hands. He opens fire and quickly unloads five shots into the target sheet, four shots peppering Minh's right left shoulder and torso, and a fifth shot hitting the blank exterior of the sheet, as bullet casings jingle and bounce on the concrete floor.

"No full auto?" Thinh inquires as Rock grabs the case of ammunition and drags it along the counter to the next target sheet. Rock shakes his head and says "No…I tried it once at a shooting range…when I first got my M9. I almost had the gun fall out of my hand. I learned my lesson there…sticking to semi auto." As Rock aims his gun at the next target, Thinh inquires "Why are you dressed like you work in a cubicle?" Rock sighs and says "Because I used to. I worked in resource procurement for a major Japanese corporation. I ended up kidnapped by my colleagues, and when my former boss left me to die, I joined them. Black Lagoon Company. We've survived against highly trained mercenary outfits, Islamic terrorists, other pirates, an assortment of gangsters and lunatics, a deranged maid and former Cuban revolutionary assassin…or was she actually Colombian…I don't know, and even the FARC from Colombia. The fact that I am still alive is something I sometimes wonder in the morning as I brush my teeth and look myself in the mirror."

Rock glares at Thinh as Thinh nods with an impressed look on his face. He surveys Thinh and his subtle facial reactions…analyzing his previous choice of words. Rock wonders as to why the kingpin of organized crime in Southern Vietnam is taking such an interest in him, doing manual labor that he could have easily delegated to his subordinates. Rock returns his attention to the target sheet and aims his CZ-75, pumping six bullets into Giáp Nguyên Võ's upper torso, neck, and chin. After the sixth bullet strikes its target, Thinh asks "So what exactly does Black Lagoon Company do? What is the going rate to hire?"

Rock blinks and retreats momentarily into deep thought, realizing exactly why Thinh has been asking him so many questions. He swallows his saliva and says "We are at heart…a courier group. Our job is to move something from one place to another…regardless of place and/or police. We were originally hired to help Marty with the garbage dumping…but with everything that came up…well…now we are working on eliminating your competition. We normally don't do jobs like this, just so you know. As for our going rate…that is negotiable with my boss, Dutch. He's the black, bald, American guy with the flak jacket. I have his number if you want." Thinh nods and pulls out his cell phone. Rock pulls out his cell phone with his left hand and puts his gun down on the counter. He reads off Dutch's number as Thinh enters it in his cell phone. As Thinh enters the last digits, Rock mentions "We are based in Thailand. In Roanapur." Thinh nods in surprise and says "Oh! I get it. I know the place. Thanks…I might need you guys in the future."

Rock nods and pockets his cell phone, pleased with his success in securing a potential customer. He grabs the gun and the case of ammunition and heads for the 3rd target sheet. As he moves, Rock asks "Thinh, how did you get to speak such good English?" Thinh motions for Rock to continue on to the 3rd target sheet, saying "I learned English to make some more money translating for the U.S. soldiers in Saigon. I was the guy to go to if you wanted something. Want to cut in front of a line? I take you to the front. You want a woman? I introduce you to a trustworthy pimp. Drugs? I connected soldiers to all the suppliers in the city worth buying from. I just took a little cut of everything."

Rock aims his CZ-75 at the third target sheet and says "Sounds like you made a killing while it lasted." Thinh nods and says "I saw the fall of Saigon coming…I had the money stashed in a safe place. When reeducation began, I was able to buy my way out of the shitty mine sweeping work and get something less dangerous…like cutting down trees, before I got my ass out of there altogether. That's where I got the idea to use lumber milling as a front. All the money stashed away got me out earlier than most. Bribe money goes a long way." Rock lets out a muffled laugh and says "No arguments from me."

Rock unloads the last four bullets in his CZ-75, hitting Minh in his chest and right arm. He ejects the magazine and starts fishing bullets out of the case of ammo. He mumbles to himself "Remember how Revy showed you…" before ultimately and correctly inserting the first of fifteen bullets into the magazine. Thinh stares and asks "Haven't been doing this long?" Rock nods and says "I've worked for Black Lagoon Company for two years…doing accounting and other miscellaneous work. This thing with me carrying a gun is a recent development. Don't worry, I've been in shootouts before." Rock restrains himself from laughing as he realizes how nonchalantly he told Thinh that he has been in shootouts before.

"Something tells me that they didn't teach you that in your old work, heh. So what you do in your corporation? Resource procurement, right?" Thinh inquires, curious. Rock inserts another bullet into the magazine and says "As it sounds…I source recourses from suppliers for our production jobs. Checking resource quality…business trips. Helping with the supplier's supply lines." Thinh cracks a wry smile and asks "The fuck you made there? I'm curious." Rock emotionlessly says "We built giant ships. Tankers. Not exactly conveyer belt material…heh." Thinh's eyes light up as he says "Oh! Like those used by oil and energy companies. Interesting…I always like knowing how things are made. Wanted to own a company and sell things, make a lot of money…course now I sell blow and it's making me serious fucking money. Now cocaine production…that is really fucking interesting."

Rock finishes loading bullets into the magazine and says "We have a crime boss in Roanapur that makes and sells meth. I didn't see the lab but I saw the front operation…can't say more though. Sorry." Thinh points at Rock and says "Meth…now that will fuck you up." Rock sternly nods and says "I can speak from experience." He reflects on his choice of words…and then quickly adds "I've seen what it does to people." Thinh nods and says "Yeah? I bet…Thailand and all. Say, you said business trips. Where you go?"

Rock inserts the magazine into the pistol and pulls back on the slide. He says "Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Colombia, Brazil…my first trips were in Vietnam actually. A couple of them…with a supplier in Vũng Tàu." Thinh glares at Rock in surprise and exclaims "Vũng Tàu? That's where we are hitting Van Thirith. Interesting." Rock moves toward the next target sheet, dragging the case of ammo around. He fires five shots into the sheet and asks "What can you tell me about Van Thirith?" Thinh sighs, rubs his forehead, and says "He's Cambodian…most of his gang is Viet with some Cambodians, Laotians…his second-in-command is Thai. Arms dealer getting into other rackets…political connections I think. About the same age as me…clean shaven, shoulder length hair. Oh, and soon to be fucking dead."

Rock turns toward the fifth target sheet, asking "What's the plan of act…?" Thinh raises his right hand and stops Rock, saying "We'll get to that upstairs. Now finish up and wait for me, I am heading upstairs for another bump." Rock nods and steadies his gun at the target sheet as Thinh leaves. He grips tightly on the CZ-75, steadies his breathing, and opens fire, raining bullet casings onto the floor.

The two dining tables, now connected into a thick table, are covered with ashtrays, cigarettes, Heineken beer cans, Heineken beer bottles, and an assortment of folders and photographs, with a giant map in the middle. On the side closest to the TV, Black Lagoon Company, Marty, Ippolito, Tuyết, Ngoc, and Vibol alternate between cigarettes, beers, and chatter, with Marty in the middle. Opposite them, Thinh Nguyễn scans the map, immeditaly flanked by Quyen and Loan, who themselves are surrounded by the rest of Thinh's gang. Revy looks at Thinh and says "Alright…we got the uniforms down…I'm assuming that shit's bullet resistant. We got the guns down. What about cameras? They probably could tell how some of us don't look all that Vietnamese." Thinh turns to Dutch and says "Yea, you're going to have to use the uniform that covers completely. Something tells me that the Vietnamese secret police hasn't been hiring that many black people…though your height won't be a problem. Tall Vietnamese are rare but they exist." He then turns to Revy and says "You are going to cover the hair up. Dyed hair is…kinda very rare in the Vietnamese military. The biggest thing is that you all stick to using Vietnamese when speaking."

Revy sighs and says "That might be a fucking problem. I know maybe like five words in Vietnamese. Rock can speak a bit. As for Dutch…uh…boss?" Dutch shakes his head and says "Some Thai and Khmer. No Vietnamese." Thinh sighs and shakes his head, saying "Great…we have to set you up in teams. Quyen and Loan will provide assistance. Maybe one of yours, Marty?" Marty raises his hand and hurriedly responds "Hey, hey, hey! The whole point of me hiring Black Lagoon Company was to keep it from coming back to us. I'm not giving up any of my men or women for the job." Tuyết snaps her fingers and says "I could provide communication support from outside. Keep in contact with the teams." Marty glares at Tuyết and says "You get caught…I don't know you. Understand?" Tuyết nods in understanding.

"It's going to be three against possibly thirty…they'll get slaughtered," Thinh mutters out. Revy's eyebrows twitch as she says "Hey look here buddy! We have faced more dangerous assholes then Van Thirith's collection of rent-a-fucks and can hold our own. Don't fucking doubt us!" Thinh points at Revy and says "If anyone dies during the shootout…this whole job is fucked! This has to go perfect! I'll say you split into three teams of two. I'll send one more guy." Thinh turns to the Vietnamese man with the sleeveless white shirt and chin strap beard and says "Minh, bạn đi với họ (you go with them). Tôi sẽ trả tiền cho bạn giống như Quyen và Loan (I will pay you like Quyen and Loan)." Minh nods and says "Vâng ông chủ (Yes boss)."

Marty glares at Thinh and says "I got a lot of fucking money riding on this, and I don't want to get forced out of this country. I'm trusting your judgment Thinh…cause if anyone fucks up, we all going to get burnt." Thinh holds his left hand up and placates Marty, saying "Trust me, I haven't forgotten about it. Like I said, we should make teams."

As Thinh thinks to himself, Marty takes a rolled up $20 American bill and a plastic card out of his pocket. He opens a small box, the contents full of cocaine. He uses the plastic card to scoop coke onto the inside of the lid cover, and then prepares to cut the cocaine into a thin line. Thinh waves his arms in annoyance and yells "Is this the time for that Marty?! We are doing something here!" Marty raises his left index finger up and says "Hold on, this is brain food for me. It's full of Flintstone vitamins." Revy, Dutch, Benny, and Ippolito start cracking up in laughter as Ngoc glares at the plastic card that Marty is cutting the coke with. She points at it and asks "Is that a library card?" Marty looks up, sporting a shit-eating grin, and says "Good glasses." Revy places her right hand on her face and laughs into it as Dutch smirks at Marty and says "You are an individual Marty. Unique. Like a modern art exhibit." "Laugh it up," Marty mutters as he leans forward and snorts a line.

Thinh exhales a deep sigh and says "My idea is to have Tuyết coordinate with each of the three groups using my muscle. Each of my men and women get assigned one of the three mercenaries." Rock looks up and says "My Vietnamese is decent enough for communication." Thinh smirks at Rock and says "Oh yeah? Some words and phrases? Ông Lê nin lên núi lấy nước nấu long (Mr. Lenin up the mountain collecting water to cook his heart)." Rock stares at Thinh with the look of a mammal that was just asked to use an abacus, and says "Err…khoai tây…chips (potato chips)?" Thinh starts cracking up and says "Ngồi xuống, bạn đụ (Sit down, you fuck)!" Dutch glares at Marty, who is cramming white dust up his nose, and then at Rock. He mumbles to himself "I'm assuming he is just doing surveillance with Tuyết." He says it quietly enough that only Revy overhears, who in turn looks at Dutch slightly uncomfortably.

Marty suddenly jerks his head upward and yells "Woo! That is some fucking quality Thinh! Motherfucking quality! I should fucking know, I brought the stuff here haha! How's sales going on your end?" Thinh glances at the contents on the table, climbs under the table, scans it, climbs back up, shrugs his shoulders at the redundancy of checking under the table, and says "Going well actually. It's selling at nightclubs, whorehouses, and raves. We are working with the volume you're selling us and we might be looking at moving more blow in as soon as two months. What about the ecstasy? Why the fuck aren't we getting it?"

Marty starts cracking up like an idiot, wagging his right index finger. He restrains his arms and says "Alright, my friends in Australia are having serious FUCKING PROBLEMS! Melbourne is about to erupt like fucking St. Helen! Shit could be kicking off any minute and my associates in Australia are more concerned with selling in their country then getting into the added risk of smuggling into Southeast Asia, which you sure as shit know, it got some strict fucking drug laws. So I don't know…I'm keeping in contact and waiting till they say yes. I'm giving them a couple of months. If that don't work out…if shit kicks off in Melbourne and it becomes a live auction at the local mattress shop, I'll cut my Aussie friends out of the loop and get the X in straight from Vancouver. Tough shit for them…if they can't supply, I got it covered. Now let's get back to this shit at hand!"

Thinh shrugs his shoulders and points at the map on the table. He says "Van Thirith's organization numbers in around 30. I've been getting info that at least twenty people are at the dockyards in Vũng Tàu, in one dock that Thirith is using for something major. An Australian ship that is flying the flag of Papua New Guinea, it has been spotted nearby Thirith's rented dock. It's a big place with cargo containers around, but this Australian ship is around the size of a yacht. If at least twenty are there…half his organization, and assuming all twenty work for Van Thirith, this seems like a major sale or purchase. All six of you are going to break into the docks and kill everything that moves. No witnesses…only the cameras will give the cops the 'evidence' they need."

Marty suddenly breaks out in laughter and says "This shit is like sideways astroturfing!" Revy raises and eyebrow and says "Astroturfing, what the fuck are you talking about?" Marty turns to Revy, still smirking, still high, and says "It's when you pretend to be 50 different people and send the same call or letter to someone to make it look like you got 49 friends agreeing with you. Now can we get back to work?" Thinh, Tuyết, Ngoc, Vibol, and Black Lagoon Company glare in wonderment at Marty as Ippolito looks away and quietly laughs to himself.

Thinh returns to the contents on the table, taking a sip from a can of Heineken. As he sets the can down, Marty approaches a trio of photographs on the table and drags them closer to his person. He scans the picture in the middle, the photo of a somewhat dark skinned clean shaven Cambodian man with shoulder length hair and a cleft chin, with the words 'Van Thirith' written on the photo in black marker. To the left of Van Thirith's photo is a picture of a Thai man with black hair combed to the left and right, slightly unkempt, a thin moustache, and whiskers on his chin. The man is sporting a tattoo that is sticking out of the collar of his grey t-shirt and onto his neck, appearing to be part of a Yantra Tattoo. At the bottom of the photo, the name 'Supakrit Bunyasarn' is written in black marker. Marty raises Supakrit's photo and says "Supakrit here…Van Thirith's number two. He's part of the gun smuggling into Thailand through Cambodia…"

Thinh looks at Marty and asks "Where you going to with this?" Marty rubs his rough beard and says "Thirith smuggles guns into Cambodia. Supakrit uses whatever connections he has to get the guns through Cambodia and into Thailand. That border hasn't gotten iron clad lately, so what's with this change up with the docks and Vũng Tàu?" Thinh takes another sip of beer and says "He's been incorporating local criminals in the Saigon area into his organization…" Marty scratches his nose and says "Yea but Vũng Tàu?! It's the complete fucking other side of the country from the Cambodian border." Thinh nods and says "Yeah I know. I just don't know what is coming through that boat. Doesn't matter…the bulk of his operation is in one convenient place. You six kill the fuck out of Thirith and Bunyasarn, and the organization should scatter. We take out Thirith while framing the Tổng Cục II, it should put them in deep shit with Thirith's secret friends in the government and cast the blame on the newspaper man…or Marty and I hope so. The Tổng Cục II would at the least, if all the information is right, do an investigation into Trung Thanh Hoàng. Chù's brother loses his connections, and Chù would lose backing…but that's going to be primarily Marty's problem. I just need Thirith removed so we don't have to sell our coke cheap. I fucking hate competition." Marty nods and gestures approvingly at Thinh, saying "You fucking got it."

Suddenly, Revy blurts out "Hey, I thought of something. If any of us is getting shot, and it's a good fucking possibility…our bullet resistant shit is going to protect us…but there's always a chance a bullet hits someone's toes or some shit. What about blood evidence?" Tuyết slightly raises her right hand and waves, catching Revy's attention. She says "A small storm is about to pass through South Vietnam. The rain will wash any blood or similar evidence away." Marty extends his left arm outward toward Tuyết and says "You see everyone?! It's now or fucking never! You are all headed to Lê Quang Định Road. Got it, Tuyết?"

A shocked look overtakes Rock's face as he starts tapping on the table. As everyone prepares to disperse, Rock suddenly yells out "Wait! Mr. Zappala, the docks Van Thirith got rented to him…are they next to the docks used by that Ukrainian oil corporation…the one in Vũng Tàu? The docks to the right of the big harbor that are separated by a hill?" Thinh looks at the map and scans it. He turns to Loan and asks "Bến tàu thuộc sở hữu của công ty Ukraine ở đâu? (The pier owned by Ukrainian company is where)?" Loan glares at the map, running his right index finger through the streets. After a short pause, he points at the map and answers "Vâng (Yes). Các bến cảng ở đây (The harbor over here)."

Thinh turns to Rock and says "If you are on to something, say it." Rock stares blankly at the map and says "That little pier that Van Thirith is using…it used to be owned by a bauxite company that my former boss used as a supplier. Besides inspecting their bauxite extraction operation, I was also sent to inspect their dock and warehouse. I gave the manager of their logistics department a few suggestions on improving their pier. One was to set up a track of rails to move the containers to within the range of the crane. They had a very short crane and it was too expensive to get a new one, and their warehouse was for some stupid reason right in the middle. The other suggestion was an electric fence, because they were shipping a valuable raw resource and they had a few thefts at the time. That was why I asked about the lack of a fence in Marty's recycling plant yesterday. The next two times I visited, they adopted both of my ideas, which was probably my biggest success at my old job. Of course, my company then drops the supplier and switches to Venezuela and Colombia."

"We have to deal with an electric fence?! Fucking great!" Revy yells out in annoyance. Tuyết stares at Rock and asks "Do you remember where the circuit box for the electric fence is?" Rock grimaces and pauses, entering deep thought. After a minute, he says "I think it was on the right side of the fence, us facing the docks. I could be wrong…it was a while ago. They are only supposed to use it at night, though I don't think Thirith cares about that." Tuyết nods and says "Alright, I'll handle the fence. When I do that, the three teams will do the rest. I'll keep everyone connected…keep an eye on the action."

Benny suddenly raises his hand and asks "What about the cops?" Thinh yells out "Đụ! I forgot about them!" Marty smiles, still somewhat high, and says "Don't worry bout them. I'll handle the sausage vans. My military connect will take care of it." Rock darts a stern stare at Marty, digesting Marty's new nugget of information. Thinh sighs in relief and says "We are moving out, get in uniform. Đặt trên áo giáp chống đạn của bạn (Put on your bulletproof armor)."

As Rock proceeds to follow Revy, Dutch stops him and says "Wait Rock…where are you going?" Rock eyes his boss in confusion and answers "With you…for the job. That's why I was practicing downstairs…" "Are you going to help Tuyết or are you going with us into the docks?" Dutch inquires, slightly anxious. Rock looks at his boss with a stunned look and says "I'm going with you and Revy." Revy and Benny turn around and watch the scene unfold as the rest of the gangsters migrate toward a few crates near the TV. Dutch looks to the ground, rubs his nose, and says "This is going to be a genuine clusterfuck, Rock. As in, an actual shootout. As in, I have to rely on you for my personal safety. That means I expect you to have my back, and Revy's. I mean it. I expect it. If you have any lingering doubts, if you don't think you can do this, if this is some mid-life crises kicking in 20 years earlier, get the fuck out and go with Tuyết, or go to the boat with Benny. Sorry if me saying this is going to bruise your ego, but I don't want to get shot because you panic and fuck up." Rock glares angrily at his boss and says "I'm going. I'm going to kill anyone in my way. I'm going to collect my 12 and a half grand. And I am not going to fuck up…boss." Dutch stares coldly at Rock. After a pause of silence, he forces his cold stare into a wry smile and says "You are not how I remember you. This is a little funny."

Rock restrains his anger and says "Maybe you are working on old information. Seems like I've been treated that way by you ever since those pirates from Papua New Guinea attacked us." Dutch lets Rock's words sink into him. He recalls back to Roscoe railing away on him over the things that Dutch done long before he became the person that he is today. Dutch cracks a bemused smile and nods slightly, saying "Perhaps. Perhaps you're not the only one."

A grey Ford Club Wagon van cruises through highway QL 51, zeroing in on the city of Vũng Tàu, amidst a gray, gloomy sky. A couple of motorcycles pass the van as it calmly drives through the paved highway, flanked by metal barricades on both ends. In the driver seat, Tuyết hums to the radio, which is playing "Tình Yêu Và Thủy Thủ" by Mai Lệ Huyền. She is dressed in a dark green camouflage sweater with a pitch black ballistic vest draped over it, a radio wedged to the vest using Velcro. She is wearing pants that match her sweater, with dark grey armor plates over her knees, and rolled up cuffs that expose the laces on her dark grey combat boots. On her right arm, the sweater sports a symbol of a yellow badge shaped emblem with a red center, and a yellow star in the center with two yellow wreathes crossing their stems at the bottom and flanking the star at its top. Outside the yellow badge is a red, downward pointing pentagon that holds the emblem on it, with the initials TCII right under the yellow badge, the initials also woven in yellow. She scratches her nose, her hands covered in leather gloves, glancing at the car's clock, which says "4:39 P.M."

In the rear of the van, six occupants in uniforms identical to Tuyết sit on two leather cushions opposite each other, three on each row. On the row behind Tuyết, Dutch, Rock, and Revy, seated in that order from front to back, glare at their weapons. Dutch inspects the barrel of his AKS-74U, Rock pulls back the slide on his Uzi, and Revy plays with the retractable buttstock on her MP5A3. The three of them all wear balaclavas around their neck, with Revy and Dutch both taking drags from a cigarette. Opposite them, Loan, Minh, and Quyen, seated in that order from the rear of the van to the front, all sit and take drags from their cigarettes. Loan, Minh, and Quyen all carry AKS-74Us, the rifles at their feet. Rock reaches toward the right side of his waist, grabbing the pistol grip of his CZ-75. He imagines drawing the pistol, getting accustomed to drawing from a side holster.

"Out of smokes?" Revy asks, knocking ash onto the flooring of the van. Rock shakes his head and says "Don't want." Revy snorts to herself and turns to the three Vietnamese gangsters in front of her. She glares at Loan and says "So…Loan right? You and me in the same little team…you ready?" Loan simply glares at Revy as if she has three heads, and then looks at the rear door of the van. Revy rolls her eyes in exasperation, and turns to Rock, saying "Benny is at the south side of the city with Ippolito, Ngoc, and Vibol. I'm going to be fucking pissed if the fridge is empty during our sea-side escape." Rock smirks and says "I'm sure that memo you left on the fridge is going to get the message across. 'Hey, this is Revy's beer, Revy's massaman curry, and Revy's pepperoni pizza. Touch, and your face will be Revy's dart board'. I'm certain they will get the point." Revy cracks a wry smile and knocks ash off her cigarette, stealing glances of Rock dressed in a ballistic vest.

A pensive look takes over her face as she takes a drag of her cigarette. Exhaling smoke, she asks "You good?" Rock blankly stares at Revy, looks down, and then looks back at her, nodding once. Mildly distressed, Revy turns to Loan and asks "So what shit did Thinh have you do lately?" Loan glares at Revy and says "English not good. Leave me alone." Revy exhales a deep, annoyed breath onto the flooring and yells "Fuck this! Tuyết! I can't work with this cue ball fuck! This whole 'no speaking English' thing is bullshit! If I'm getting shot, I have the fucking right to tell them to go fuck themselves in any fucking language I want to say! Rock, you with me." Rock stares blankly at Revy and says "Sure."

Tuyết grimaces and says "I wasn't told to enforce the speaking in only Vietnamese rule, so if you want to, your problem. I could translate for both on the spot." She clears her throat and then says "Loan. Bạn được ghép nối với Minh (You are paired with Minh). Điều đó tốt với bạn (That's fine with you)?" Loan nods furiously and replies "Đụ vâng (Fuck yeah)! Người tàu chó cái là nhận được trên dây thần kinh của tôi (Chink bitch is getting on my nerves)!" Revy glares at Loan, slightly annoyed, and says "You got fucking chatty now, eh?" She turns to Tuyết and asks "The fuck he said?" Tuyết shakes her head to regain her bearings, closes her eyes, and says "He's fine. He's going with Minh. Dutch with Quyen. And you two together. Anything else?" Dutch knocks ash off his cigarette and says "Nah, I think we are good."

Three white cars with blue stripes painted on them, the words "Cảnh Sát (Police)" written on the stripes in white lettering, zip by on the opposite side of the highway. Two more squad cars zip by shortly afterwards, prompting Tuyết to say "I counted 8 cop cars heading out of the city. Martin solved the police problem." Black Lagoon Company nods in acknowledgement as Tuyết repeats in Vietnamese "Cảnh sát đã để lại (The police have left)." Quyen and Minh nod in acknowledgement as Loan crushes his cigarette under his boot.

Rock grips tightly on his Uzi, nodding to himself, a stern look on his face. "Nice to finally get some mileage out of this submachine gun," Rock mutters under his breath, and then looks around to make sure that he himself just said that. "Hmph," Revy mutters, finishing her cigarette. She crushes it under her boot. "It's starting to rain," Tuyết announces, turning on the windshield wipers. "Almost there, five minutes to go," Tuyết continues, as the six gunners in the rear ready their rifles or submachine guns.

"Remember Revy, you and Rock take the left side. Me and Quyen take the middle. Minh and Loan take the right. We do the warehouse at the same time," Dutch instructs, tossing his cigarette onto the floor and crushing it underneath his boot. Suddenly, Rock blurts out "Dutch…when you and Revy were raiding that Nazi boat for that painting, I asked Benny a question on about what Benny and I should do as the two of you did your job. Benny mentioned how you were extremely calm while Revy and I were under attack in the submarine. Right now, we are about to enter a massive shootout, and yet I feel unusually calm. Maybe it is a delayed reaction…maybe…" "Rock…" Dutch mutters, slightly annoyed "I am going to have to depend on you for the next 15 to 45 minutes. So…since you are here with us, and you are going with us into the mess, do your boss a personal favor, and do your philosophical musings over a nice little cocktail drink at that bar we went to yesterday. Just not right now." Rock sighs and looks down on the ground, saying "I understand Dutch. I understand."

Suddenly, the van slows to a stop. Tuyết grabs a balaclava and puts it on, pulling it over her face. She grabs the radio on her ballistic vest and pries it off. She presses a large button on it and speaks into it "You all got…whatever those sound things are called. They are fastened on the collar of your uniform. Speak into it…it's that black microphone thing." Dutch pulls on the collar of his uniform and zeros in on the microphone. He speaks into it "Is it working?" Tuyết speaks into her radio "Yea it is." Her voice sounds off in all six gunners' microphones. Revy smirks and speaks into her microphone "How's it on my end? 10-4." Tuyết blankly speaks into her radio "10-4. 10-2." Loan glares at Revy and snarls at her. Revy casually flips Loan off.

Tuyết exits the van and speaks into the radio "Mask up, helmet up. I'm taking care of the fence." Rock speaks into the microphone "Hold it. I can show you where the power box is exactly." He holsters his Uzi on his shoulder strap and pulls his balaclava upwards, covering everything but his eyes and his nose. As he places a combat helmet on his head and tightens the strap under his chin, Tuyết replies "I say no, Mr. Okajima. There are people walking on the street, and I think one of the people in the Ukrainian dock is staring at me."

Rock turns to Dutch and Revy, and says "I'm heading out." He exits out of the van and into the currently rainy Vũng Tàu. "What the hell are you doing?" Tuyết speaks out, loud enough for Rock to hear without the microphone. She is standing in a dirt driveway that separates Van Thirith's dock from the Ukrainian company's dock. A couple of Van Thirith's men run patrol inside the dock on the left, oblivious to the two balaclava clad individuals several meters away. In the Ukrainian firm's dock, a Laotian longshoreman, dressed in an orange and yellow safety vest, a white t-shirt, and jeans, nervously stares at Rock and Tuyết. Rock draws his CZ-75 and points onward at the dirt road with his left hand, saying "A strange van is parked in front of a mobster's hangout. By the time you will find the power box, they will find our van. Hurry!"

Tuyết draws a CZ-75 of her own and follows Rock along the dirt road, the electric fence and shipping containers stacked in twos on their left. The two quickly run through the space between containers, attempting to avoid the line of sight of Van Thirith's muscle. The two quickly reach a dead end, the dead end being an unfenced ledge that leads to a 50 foot drop into the water. Rock leans over the ledge and points at a power box fastened a foot below the ledge. To his left, Rock spots a tall, orange crane. "How the hell…" Tuyết mutters. Rock quickly replies "This ledge used to be attached to a wooden platform…I'm guessing that the expansion of the Ukrainian dock caused the platform to be a nuisance." "Any ideas? Besides shooting it?" Tuyết inquires. Rock stares at the power box and nods, saying "One. A very bad one."

He lies on his stomach and sets his CZ-75 on the ground, followed by his Uzi. He then starts crawling over the ledge, kicking his feet up to signal at Tuyết. Tuyết realizes what Rock is doing and sets her pistol on the ground. She grabs Rock by his legs, right below his shins. Rock gives Tuyết a 'thumbs up' gesture and then looks down, realizing that he is hanging 50 feet above water. Nervously shaking his head, Rock exhales a deep breath and reaches for the top of the power box. A padlock seals the latch on the top of the power box, the padlock slightly rusted.

"Tuyết, there's a padlock. I'm going to break it with my Uzi…pull me back up," Rock instructs. Tuyết pulls Rock up and watches as Rock grabs his Uzi and ejects the Uzi's magazine and sole chambered bullet. He reinserts the bullet into the magazine and turns back onto his stomach. Waiting for Tuyết to grab onto his legs, Rock crawls back over the ledge and zeros in on the padlock. He aims the butt of the submachine gun at the padlock, sizes up the part of the metal hook of the padlock that is looped through the latch, and drives his Uzi onto the latch. Two strikes, three strikes. The fourth attempt, he misses. On the fifth attempt, the padlock breaks loose. "Pull me back up," Rock commands. Back on the ground, he slams the magazine back into the Uzi and pulls back on the slide. He then sets it on the ground and asks "Do you have anything sharp on you? Knives? Anything to cut the rubber on the wires."

Tuyết turns toward her radio and whispers "Minh, với tôi (to me). Bên phải của hàng rào (Right side of the fence)." As the two wait for Minh, an Eastern European man dressed in a yellow and orange safety vest, a blue and grey plaid collared shirt, and jeans, approaches the two from the distance and yells out in Ukrainian accented Russian "Shto vi dvoi deloeteh (What are you two doing)?" Tuyết and Rock quickly jerk their heads to face the Ukrainian longshoreman, scrambling to find something to say. After a pause, Tuyết calmly replies "Cảnh sát (Police). Official business." The Ukrainian man glares at the two in confusion, saying "Yerunda! Ya cechas zvonu polizia (Nonsense! I now call police)." Rock grinds his teeth and whispers "I hope some of the secret police know Russian." He stands up and says "Mi provodim polisteiskovo reihda (We are conducting a police raid). Otoidite (Stand back)." The Ukrainian man glares at Rock, darts a dirty look at him, spots his Uzi, and then says "Nichevo ni videhl (Didn't see anything)." As he walks away, Tuyết glares at Rock in confusion. Rock smirks under his balaclava and says "I'm trilingual. Japanese, English, and Russian."

Shortly afterwards, Minh arrives, balaclava over his face and helmet on his head, carrying his AKS-74U. He kneels by Tuyết and Rock and asks "Bạn cần bất cứ thứ gì (Do you need anything)?" Tuyết calmly answers "Con dao (Knife)." Minh reaches into a pocket on his ballistic vest and pulls out a bowie knife. He hands the knife to Tuyết, who then hands the knife to Rock. Rock calmly says "Thanks. Now for the bad part of my idea." He lies on his stomach once again, waiting for Tuyết to grab his legs for support. This time, Tuyết grabs Rock's left leg, and Minh grabs Rock's right leg. Rock crawls over the ledge, glaring once more at the 50 foot drop with a mix of discomfort and fear. He reaches for the opened padlock with his left hand and removes it off the latch. He lets go of the padlock, letting it fall 50 feet into the water, making a small splash as it sinks to the sea floor. Rock then calmly pushes the latch forward, letting gravity do the rest as the latch swings forward, exposing the wires to the steadily increasing rain. Rock grips tightly onto his knife and crawls a few inches forward, now partially upside down. "When I say go, immediately pull me up," Rock says. He exhales a deep, nervous breath and surveys the half a dozen wires in the power box. Nervous, he grabs one of the wires with his left hand, his hands covered in leather gloves, and holds the wire steady as he makes an incision into the wires. He then arcs the knife almost parallel to the wires and skins the rubber off the wire, exposing the copper to the rain. As a chunk of rubber falls into the water, Rock turns to repeat the same with another wire. After skinning a third wire, a spark shoots out, causing Rock to yell "Go!" Tuyết and Minh quickly pull Rock back onto the ledge as a large flash of fire shoots out of the circuit board, disabling the electric fence.

Back on the ground, Rock hands Minh his knife back. Tuyết looks at Rock and asks "Did you work as an electrician before?" Rock shakes his head and says "Making and fixing things requires a couple years of technical school. Breaking them only requires a little stupid and a little crazy." Rock grabs his Uzi and holsters it, and then reaches for his CZ-75. He climbs back to his feet as Tuyết grabs her CZ-75. Suddenly, someone from Van Thirith's dock yells out "Cái quái gì vậy (What the hell)?" Tuyết yells into her radio "Everyone get out! Thời gian để kiếm được tiền lương của bạn (Time to earn your paycheck)!"

The three proceed to walk back towards the van, anticipating any of Van Thirith's muscle to appear in their view. Minh holds onto his AKS-74U, eyes on the sights, as Tuyết and Rock keep their CZ-75s in front of them. A Laotian gangster dressed in a blue and green vertically striped collared shirt and brown shorts steps through the gap between containers, Glock 17L in hand. He spots the three ballistic vest wearing intruders and yells out "Ồ đụ (Oh fuck)!" The gangster raises his Glock 17L as Tuyết quickly aims her CZ-75 at the gangster. She fires off three bullets as Minh taps on the trigger, firing off two of his own. The first of Tuyết's bullets strikes the Laotian gangster in the left ribs, the second one striking his left lung, and the third bullet striking the shipping container behind him, leaving a hole. Minh's two bullets strike the gangster in his stomach, the raw energy of the bullets pushing the gangster back first into the shipping container, sounding a thud. The gangster raises his gun and attempts to pull the trigger, only to lose control of his legs as his back slides down and to the left of the shipping container, leaving a smear of blood on the container walls, the walls peppered with holes from the bullets exiting the gangster's body. He loses grip of his pistol and slumps onto his right elbow, bleeding to death from his mortal wounds. Tuyết glares at the dying gangster and says "Damn it! Goddamn it! I promised myself never again!"

Rock glares at Tuyết in confusion, and then at Minh. Minh shrugs his shoulders and points toward the front entrance of the docks. The three run to the front entrance, meeting Quyen, Loan, Dutch, and Revy, all four with balaclavas and helmets on and rifles/submachine guns at the ready. Revy has her hair tucked into her uniform, her balaclava covering all but her mouth, nose, and eyes. Dutch himself has his balaclava cover his entire face, a pair of tactical military goggles replacing his sunglasses. Tuyết waves her hands and says "Go! Go! I'll move the van and get a better vantage point." She leaps into the van and drives off as Loan shoots off the padlock on the front gate with his AKS-74U. Minh pulls the gate open as Loan heads right and follows the disabled electric fence forward, with Minh following suit. "See ya at the end," Dutch mutters as he and Quyen run through the gate and into the maze of containers, exchange shots with a few gangsters that have dug into cover behind shipping containers. "You and me, partner. Let's earn our fucking pay!" Revy yells out, visibly excited. She grips onto her MP5A3 and heads through the gate as Rock holsters his CZ-75 and unholsters his Uzi.

Gunfire breaks out sporadically as Thirith's men and women yell at each other over the hail of bullets, with someone yelling "Bạn có được đụ ngay bây giờ (You are fucked now)! Ăn cứt và chết, đụ má (Eat shit and die, motherfucker)!" Loan and Minh exchange bullets with two Vietnamese gangsters, one male, one female, brandishing sawed off shotguns, all four firing from cover behind shipping containers. One of the gangsters turns from cover and fires a round in Loan's and Minh's direction. Loan steps out of cover and fires five bullets from his AKS-74U, one of the bullets striking the gangster in his left shoulder, the other severing his jugular on the left side of his neck. The gangster slowly tumbles onto his back, quickly bleeding to death as the rain intensifies into a fully fledged storm. Loan grins in satisfaction and yells "Cào một ngu đụ (Scratch one stupid fuck)!" He leaps back into cover as the other Vietnamese gangster quickly leaps out and fires a shot from her sawed off.

Dutch and Quyen take cover behind opposite facing containers, a couple meters-long gap between the containers. A Cambodian gangster and a Vietnamese gangster step out, both wearing green tracksuits and wielding MAC-10 submachine guns, unload suppressing fire on the sections of the containers where Dutch and Quyen are taking cover behind, some of the bullets penetrating the walls, only to bounce off the doors of the containers. Suddenly a Cambodian gangster in an orange polo and jeans leaps out from the container next to Quyen, wielding a SPAS-12 shotgun, yelling "Tôi sẽ để đụ mắt của bạn tắt (I'm going to fuck your eyes shut)!" Quyen quickly turns around and strikes the barrel of the SPAS-12 with the barrel of her AKS-74U, causing the gangster to discharge his shotgun harmlessly into the shipping container doors, tearing a giant chunk of metal out of it. Dutch quickly steps to the right and aims his AKS-74U down its sights, firing six shots at the gangster. The first shot strikes the gangster in the left shin, the second shot in the left thigh, the third shot misses, the fourth shot severs a couple fingers on his left hand, the fifth shot misses, and the last shot strikes a centimeter above the heart. Quyen grabs the gangster by his collar while the gangster is in mid-fall, pulls him towards her, and drives the right side of his head into what's left of the container doors using the barrel of her rifle for extra support. She then drops her rifle and yells "Bạn chết ngay bây giờ (You die now)!" She drives the gangster head first into the cold, wet, metal, bashing his head seven times in rapid succession, cracking his skull and killing him.

"Remind me not to piss you off," Dutch mutters as Quyen grabs her rifle and turns to face Dutch. They return to cover as the two MAC-10 wielding gangsters slowly creep up to Dutch and Quyen, through the gap between the two containers. Dutch overhears this and raises two fingers on his left hand at Quyen, before opening the palm of his left hand and gesturing Quyen to wait. As they approach, Dutch extends his thumb on his left hand and gestures his left hand across his neck, signaling Quyen to open fire. The two quickly jump out of cover, each alternating their fire between the two gangsters, riddling them and the container walls with bullets. The Cambodian gangster on the left is pushed shoulder first into the containers by the force of the bullets, bouncing off the container wall on the left and falling on his left shoulder, dead. The Vietnamese gangster grasps onto the container on the right with his left, bloody hand, gasping for air, blood dripping out of his mouth. He favors his stomach and falls to his knees, spitting out blood, struggling for air. His hand leaving a smear of blood on the container, he falls onto his stomach and expires.

Suddenly, a Vietnamese gangster in camouflage shorts and a blood red t-shirt that has a yellow star on it runs on top of the container closest to Dutch, wielding an AK-47. He fires from the hip, causing Dutch and Quyen to run back to cover behind the containers. Immediately after jumping into cover, Quyen turns around and fires the remaining eight bullets in her magazine, three of the bullets shredding the gangster's left kneecap and shin, and a fourth bullet striking the gangster's right thigh. The gangster trips on his bleeding legs and falls forward, launching himself off the container and landing onto the back of his neck, right in front of Dutch. Dutch walks up to the gangster and places the barrel of his AKS-74U right on the top of his head, the gangster raising his head off the ground, his legs bleeding all over it. As the gangster groans in pain, Dutch pulls the trigger and fires a round through the top of the gangster's head, the bullet exiting out of the gangsters top lip and lodging into his chest, brain matter splattering onto his shirt. The gangster drops his head to the ground like a sack of potatoes, instantly killed.

On the left side of the maze of shipping containers, Revy and Rock take cover behind the same shipping container, their submachine guns in their hands. Revy, arcing from cover, fires a few bullets at a pair of Vietnamese women, one dressed in a black tracksuit that says 'Muay Thai' in red, English lettering, the other dressed in a light blue and black plaid collared shirt and jeans, and then returns to cover behind the container. The two gangsters, each wielding an AR-18, return to cover before Revy even pulls the trigger, the bullets peppering the container walls. Revy nudges at Rock and says, smirking "I took out two of the shits already. How's your count going?"

Anxious and appearing ready to vomit, Rock yells "Uhh…zero. How the hell do you keep count in a situation like this?!" Revy laughs and says "Easy, I'm having way too much fun not to. I love pushing rats into corners before I crush their tiny little fucking heads!" She jumps out of cover and fires five bullets at the tracksuit wearing gangster that also has jumped out of cover, the latter firing four of her own bullets. The first of Revy's bullets strikes the gangster in her left kneecap, the second gashing her left ribs, the third and fourth missing, and the fifth striking her left forearm. The first of the Vietnamese gangster's bullets misses, the second and third strike Revy's ballistic vest, absorbing the bullets, and the fourth misses. The collared shirt wearing gangster grabs her partner's left, bleeding arm and pulls her back into cover as Revy staggers and takes a step back. She leaps back into cover and says, smiling sadistically "That was fucking close, ha! I'm so fucking turned on right now! YOU HEAR THAT, YOU FUCKS?! I'M GOING TO BLEED YOU LIKE GABRIEL MORENO!"

Rock taps on Revy's left shoulder with his left hand and whispers "I'm going to try something. Wait here and keep them busy." Rock turns around and turns left into an empty gap between the container that Revy and the gangsters are trading bullets behind and the container on its right. He slowly walks toward the other end of the containers, his left hand balancing against the container on the left as his right hand aims his Uzi forward. His heart rate increases as gunfire goes off every few dozen seconds or so. Rock spits onto the soaked ground and wipes rain off his face, about to reach the end of the container. Reaching the end, he quietly lays his back against the wall adjacent to the container doors the gangsters are taking cover in. He glares at the 'hallways' in front of him and to his left, the hallways created by the arrangement of the bulky shipping containers. In the 'hallway' in front, he spots a Laotian woman firing from a Glock 22, before being cut down by gunfire, the gangster holding her ribs and stomach as she falls onto her back, having been shot several times in the chest. Rock looks to his left and spots a two floor warehouse nearby. Exhaling a deep breath and closing his eyes for a second, he turns left around the corner of the container and goes face to face with the two gangsters, one of them sitting down by container doors, bleeding.

Rock grabs onto the corner of the container with his left arm and unloads six bullets at the gangster in the collared shirt that is exchanging fire with Revy, and then four bullets at the gangster in the tracksuit, who is now aiming her AR-18 at Rock. The first three bullets strike the gangster in her back, piercing her left kidney and her spine, paralyzing her. The fourth bullet strikes the gangster in the back of her left shoulder, the fifth bullet misses, and the sixth bullet strikes the gangster just below and to the left of her neck. As the collared shirt wearing gangster drops her AR-18 and falls face first into the hard, wet ground, the first of the four bullets aimed at the tracksuit wearing gangster strikes the gangster in her right knuckle as the henchwoman aims the rifle at Rock. The second bullet lands in the gangster's gut as the henchwoman twitches and fires a couple shots harmlessly into a nearby container. The third bullet gashes the gangster's heart, killing her, as the fourth bullet strikes the now dead gangster's left shoulder, causing the body to slump onto its shoulder.

Rock turns to the henchwoman that is paralyzed, bleeding from her back. The Vietnamese mobster breaths frantically and groans in agony, muttering "Tôi không thể cảm thấy chân của (I can't feel my legs). Tôi không thể cảm thấy chân của." As Revy approaches the mobster, who is now pulling herself up with her arms, Rock brings his Uzi to the back of the mobster's neck and, without hesitation, fires a bullet into the top part of the back of her neck, killing her. He exhales a deep breath, sighs, and says "I now count two." He turns toward the warehouse as Revy stares at the dead gangster, agape and stunned at the same time.

A Cambodian gangster dressed in a black t-shirt and green shorts and wielding a Beretta 93 is shot several times in the chest and legs by Minh's AKS-74U, the gangster at the edge of the docks, right next to the fifty foot drop. The gangster falls on his back, still breathing, aiming his Beretta 93 at Minh. He fires in burst mode, aiming at Minh's legs. Minh jumps to the side before the henchman could fire and slams his left shoulder against a shipping container wall. He quickly fires two more bullets into the mobster's chest, severing his heart from an artery. The gangster flinches, opens his mouth, and immediately expires, his left arm hanging over the ledge.

As Loan catches up to Minh, a Vietnamese gangster in a white sleeveless shirt and black jeans swings from cover behind the nearby shipping container, wielding a stock folded Micro Uzi. He haphazardly sprays twenty five bullets at Minh and Loan, nine of them striking them in their ballistic vests. A single bullet gashes the right side of Minh's left thigh, causing him to wince in pain, and another bullet grazes Loan's right cheek, drawing blood. The mobster clicks on the trigger, only to hear that the magazine is now empty. He glares at the gun, and then at Loan and Minh, who are slowly approaching with their AKS-74U's aimed at the gangster's face. The gangster tosses his Micro Uzi into the water and falls to his knees, surrendering. He places his hands behind his head and says "Tôi từ bỏ. Tôi đang thực hiện chiến đấu (I give up. I'm done fighting)." Minh winces in pain as Loan wipes blood off his cheek and says "Chúng tôi không phải là cảnh sát (We are not the cops)." The gangster immediately yells "Đụ (Fuck)!" and grabs onto the wet corner of the container, pulling himself out of the way as Minh and Loan open fire. A single bullet strikes the gangster in the toes on his left foot as he pulls himself up and proceeds to run, only to come face to face with Dutch and Quyen. Dutch fires a round into the gangster's right shoulder, causing the gangster to stagger back and slam his right arm against the container. Quyen yells out "Đó là chúng ta (It's us)!" as Dutch fires three shots at the gangster, the first missing, the second hitting the gangster in his neck, and the third striking the gangster slightly to the left of his eye, killing him and spraying blood and skull fragments onto the container doors.

"Bao nhiêu cho đến nay (How many so far)?" Quyen asks as the dead gangster crumbles onto the drenched, hard ground. "Cả hai chúng tôi (Both of us)? Bốn (Four)," Minh answers, wincing in pain. Quyen raises her balaclava and spits onto the ground, saying afterwards "Điều đó làm cho chín giữa chúng tôi (That makes nine between us)." Quyen then turns to Dutch and says "Nine. We kill together. Us four." Dutch pulls on his sweater and speaks into the microphone, saying "Tuyết, we got nine comfirmed dead between me, Quyen, Minh, and Loan. What's the update on Revy and Rock?"

The remaining seven bullets from an Uzi are fired in the direction of a trio of Vietnamese gangsters that are taking cover behind wooden crates. One of the henchmen is wearing dark blue jeans and a green collared shirt with dark green lotus patterns, wielding a Mossberg 500, the second one is wearing a red tracksuit with white vertical stripes, wielding a MP5K, and the last one is wearing a blue and yellow diagonally striped tracksuit, wielding a M56 submachine gun. A couple of bullets strike the crates as the remainder both sail over or under the crates and lodge themselves into the ground. Rock returns to cover behind the shipping container as Tuyết's voice sounds from the microphone in Rock's and Revy's uniform. Tuyết says "I've moved the van to higher ground. I now have a rough view of the docks. Revy, Rock. What's your status? How many killed?" Revy pulls on her sweater and speaks into the mic "I got four, Rocky got two. We are pinning down three of the fucks by the crates in front of the warehouse. About to get out of these stupid shitty containers."

Dutch, Quyen, and Loan follow the pathway between the shipping containers and the ledge on the right side of the docks, with Minh limping from the rear. Suddenly, Tuyết announces over the microphones "Rock and Revy took out six of Van Thirith's gangsters. That makes it 15 down so far. Mười lăm đã chết (Fifteen are dead)." Quyen and Loan nod in approval as Dutch mutters "Six down? Revy must be having fun."

Rock fishes out a fresh magazine out of a pocket on his ballistic vest, ejects the spent magazine, and slams the new magazine into the Uzi. He pulls back on the slide, and breathes quick breaths, adrenaline running through his veins. He leans his head out of cover, only to jerk it back inside when he sees a flash of light from a MP5K, the bullets peppering the shipping container walls, leaving behind holes. Revy removes the magazine on her MP5A3, finds it half empty, places it into a pocket on her ballistic vest, and grabs a full magazine out of the pocket. She slams the magazine in, the gun already chambering a bullet, and says "31 rounds, should do it." She scans the shipping container doors and says "Rock, go to the third container from this one, to the left of the docks. Head inside. We are going to take them head on." Rock nods in understanding and runs toward the designated container. Revy herself moves to the container on her right and pulls the doors open. She steps inside, the faint light from the holes illuminating the interior, finding stacks of boxed printing paper mixed with the occasional box of ammunition or guns. Nearing the exit out of the container, Revy spots a crate with the initials 'M26' on it. She lifts the lid off and discovers a cache of M26 grenades.

Revy pulls on her sweater and speaks into the microphone, saying "Tuyết, tell Rock to wait for my go. I found some grenades." Suddenly, Tuyết's voice sounds out on the microphone "Rock, wait for Revy's go. She has grenades. Also, the three targets behind the crates are starting to climb out of cover. No movement coming from the warehouse."

On the right side of the docks, Dutch turns to Quyen, Loan, and Minh and says "Follow me. I think I know where Rock and Revy are." He hurriedly walks through the maze of shipping containers as Loan, Quyen, and Minh follow, Minh still groaning in pain.

Inside the shipping containers, Revy says to the mic "Now Tuyết! Now!" Tuyết quickly yells "Rock, you have your signal!" Revy, holding the MP5A3 by the magazine with her left hand and holding the grenade with her right, the barrel of the MP5A3 inside the ring of the grenade, drives her left shoulder through the doors, pushing them open, coming face to face with the three gangsters that have now walked a foot away from the crates. Using the barrel of the MP5A3, she pulls the grenade off the grenade pin and lobs it underhandedly at the three gangsters. "Lựu đạn (Grenade)!" the Mossberg wielding gangster yells out as the three run away from Revy and the grenade. Revy leaps out of the container and takes cover behind its right side wall. Suddenly, Rock pushes himself out of the shipping container, Uzi at the ready, as the gangsters realize that they have run into his general direction. Rock quickly fires from the hip, emptying his clip as the grenade goes off, shattering two of the crates and lodging shrapnel into the back of the MP5K wielding gangster. The hail of gunfire peppers the three henchmen, the M56 wielding henchman firing into the air as holes appear all over the thugs. As the M56 and MP5K wielding gangsters collapse dead onto the ground, the Mossberg wielding gangster drops his shotgun and falls onto his knees, leaning forward. He grasps onto Rock's left ribs, gasping for air, coughing and smearing blood onto Rock's pants, and then loses his grip and falls onto Rock's boots, dead.

Rock takes a step back, pulling his boot from under the dead mobster. He hyperventilates, his eyes wide open as he surveys the damage he cause. Three men killed in a span of seconds, all Rock's work. His adrenaline coursing throughout his veins, he flinches and aims his empty Uzi at Revy before lowering it immediately after recognizing her. She runs up to Rock, MP5A3 in hand, her clothes and gun soaked in the rain, and says "You got some shit all over your pants." Rock eases his breathing, glances once again at the dead bodies, and says "That's five kills to your four. I think I'm in the lead." He starts cracking up at the absurdity of it all as the rain washes some of the blood off his pants. Revy cracks a laugh and says "You know, I think you just fucking might be. That's eighteen dead so far. Boss-man Thinh said that there's somewhere between twenty to thirty of these cocksuckers. Almost done."

From the right side of the docks, Dutch, Quyen, and Loan jog toward Rock and Revy, with Minh limping along as well, no longer groaning in pain. The four catch up to the two as Rock ejects his spent magazine and inserts a fresh one into his Uzi. Dutch watches this, points his AKS-74U at the corpses, blood pools forming around them, and asks "Rock? You did this?" Rock nonchalantly replies with "Yep." Dutch surveys the bodies and nods, saying "Not bad." Rock glares at his blood stained boots and replies with a "Hn." The rain continues to beat down as a bolt of lightning strikes out in the far beyond, the sky going dark. Revy glares at Rock, concerned, and asks "You okay?" Rock nods and says "Yes. This makes eighteen dead, but no sign of Van Thirith or Supakrit Bunyasarn. They must be further ahead."

Tuyết's voice suddenly thunders out from the microphones, yelling "Car with four people! Looks like a sedan, heading in from the west gate! Xe đến từ phía tây (Vehicles from the west)! Bốn người cư ngụ (Four occupants)!" Rock, Revy, and Dutch turn to the west side of the docks and step to the right of the crates, as Quyen, Minh, and Loan, step to the left of the crates. The six all have their rifles/submachine guns at the ready, the sights aimed down at a distant gate that is next to the warehouse. A dark blue seventh generation Cadillac DeVille sedan plows through the gate, all the windows rolled down except for the driver's window. The six hired gunners open fire at the sedan as three men fire MAC-10 submachine guns from out of the car windows. A bullet strikes Quyen in her left shoulder, sending her to the ground, as the sedan runs over one of the dead gangsters. Rock, Revy, Dutch, Loan, and Minh continue shooting, shattering the front window and peppering the driver with bullets, killing him. The sedan turns slightly to the right, heading into the direction of Loan and Minh. Rock, Revy, and Dutch, continue firing, killing the two gangsters in the back seats. Loan jumps to the right, dodging the car and landing on his face, as Minh tries to sidestep the car to the left, only to be brutally stuck in his left leg. Minh twists in the air and falls on his back, his left knee crushed inward as bones poke out of his pants. He screams in horrible agony as the sedan collides with a shipping container, causing the container to cave in.

The surviving gangster, a Thai man with black hair combed left and right, while slightly unkempt, a thin moustache, and whiskers on his chin, wearing a light pink partially unbuttoned dress shirt, a brown sports jacket with a blood soaked bullet hole on the left shoulder, and beige slacks, spits out a tooth and turns to his bullet ridden driver, who has a hole in his right eye. The gangster moans in pain and reaches for the handle on the driver's door, opening the door, MAC-10 in his right hand, Yantra Tattoo on his chest. He then shoves his dead driver out of the car and climbs onto the driver's seat. He then crawls out of the car and onto his driver's corpse, staining his clothes further. The gangster, Supakrit Bunyasarn, glares at the four standing gunners with vicious anger. He glares at Minh, who is crying in agony, the latter yelling "Chân của tôi (My leg)! Đụ má, chân của tôi (Motherfucker, my leg)!" Smirking in satisfaction, he raises his arms out, yelling in English and Thai "You want me, eh? Hum noi (small dick) motherfuckers! CHAN TA KHA KHUN THU (I WILL KILL YOU ALL)! KHUN KAMLANG TANGMUD TA DEHRAHB RAYAM (YOU'RE ALL GOING TO GET FUCKED)!"

He's raises his MAC-10 submachine gun, only to get swarmed with bullets as Loan, Dutch, Rock, and Revy empty their guns into the Thai second-in-command. Bullets pepper Supakrit and the sedan, shattering the driver side window, some striking the dead bodies of the gangsters still in the car. Supakrit yells out in pain and fires his MAC-10 haphazardly in the air and at the ground, staggering into the sedan. He bounces off the sedan's left-side rear door and tumbles face first into the ground, his chest hitting a puddle that slowly turns red. Revy smirks at Supakrit's dead body and asks "Hey Dutch, should I kick his head? You know, to make sure?"

Dutch ignores Revy and tends to Quyen, lifting her off the ground. He watches as Loan does the same for Minh. Dutch pulls on his sweater and yells "We took out Supakrit but Quyen and Minh are fucked up. Bring in the van…they can't fight no more." Tuyết replies "Understood, though I cannot provide surveillance. For now on, you're running blind." Revy nods at Dutch and says "These four make it twenty two dead. If Van Thirith is even here, his organization is fucked to all hell. I think Rock and I could finish the rest. Stay safe, boss." Dutch nods and says "Alright, but don't fuck up. I don't think Minh would want to be an amputee over nothing."

Rock and Revy turn toward the warehouse, zeroing in on a wooden door. They run up to the door and stand opposite it, with Rock on the left and Revy on the right. Rock glances at Revy and asks "You ready?" Revy smirks and nods, saying "Oh fuck yes I am. Let's do this." Rock reaches for the doorknob and carefully twists it, opening the door and letting faint light into the mostly dark warehouse, the only other source of light being from the upper floor windows. He crouches behind a shelf full of crates as Revy enters the warehouse, quietly closing the door behind her. The two overhear a man and a woman talking, the man speaking in a Vietnamese accent, the woman speaking in a thick broad Sydney Australian accent.

The woman yells out "The fuck we doing here?! There ain't enough petrol in this oversized trough lolly! We should be shooting out of this god-forsaken shithole, guns blazin', Hao, not sitting round like the gook chook cunt that's jerking the meat in front of me trying to find gasoline." Hao snaps and yells back "Shut the fuck up, Holly! It's not my fault that you and your fucked in the head boss decided to arrive here on an empty fuel tank!" Holly immediately yells back "Well it ain't my fault that Van Thirith got a whole fucking parking lot to sell between his ears, ay? What kind of a daft, drongo fuck would park his car several blocks away from his job site? And don't fucking give me that shit! They send the divvy vans here and we can kiss our lives goodbye! Ya know the sentencing for smuggling pingers here in your shithouse country? I might as well have joined a Brit rock band and fucked a chink in the arse!"

Rock and Revy adjust their eyes to the darkness, discerning that the Vietnamese man, Hao, is somewhat skinny, bald, and wearing a dark blue, sleeveless shirt with a red skull and crossbones design on the front and back, black cargo shorts, and brown sandals, wielding a Norinco Type 56 assault rifle. The white Australian woman, Holly, is sporting long brown hair flowing onto her shoulders, wearing a bandana designed off the Australian flag, a sleeveless orange shirt, loose, blue track pants with white drawstrings, and brown running shoes, wielding a Steyr AUG bullpup assault rifle.

Holly yells out "Why the fuck would you store petrol in a fuckin' warehouse, tell me that mate!" Hao replies "We kept it here to protect it from the rain. And please, shut the fuck up already! Supakrit is supposed to arrive to provide suppressing fire. It's twenty of us against like a few of them…we'll hold them off." Holly laughs sardonically and says "Oh yea? You like that wouldn't ya? Mr. Translator…too chickenshit to put your neck on the line? I don't see ya putting that AK to good use, ay? What's the matter, running low on the minerals? WAKE THE FUCK UP! Twenty minutes ago it was the fucking Port Arthur massacre and now it's all nice and calm!"

Hao growls and replies "Haven't you been paying attention?! I'm getting us the gasoline so we could fuck on out of here! Now make yourself useful and check the crates near that door! I think I have a couple of canisters over there, should be enough for us to escape on your shitty boat!" Holly extends her arms outward indignantly and yells "Yea, mint fucking work turning your warehouse into a fucking servo! You sure got yourself a career in logistics cut out for you, ya fuck!"

As Holly turns around, she squints her eyes and notices a barrel of a gun sticking out from behind a crate. She quickly aims her Steyr and yells "The Vietnamese soggies are here! Get behind something Hao!" Holly pulls the trigger and fires off several bullets in the direction of Rock and Revy. "Fuck!" Revy yells as she and Rock runs to the right, seeking cover behind a pillar, the bullets harmlessly punching holes into the crates. The flash from Holly's Steyr momentarily illuminates the room as shell casings hit the wooden floor. Revy nudges Rock as Holly fires indiscriminately across the warehouse. As she runs to cover behind a shelf stacked with boxes, Holly yells "The fuck you waiting for Hao?! Nut up and shoot!"

As Hao begins shooting alongside Holly, Rock runs to cover next to Revy. Suddenly, he drops face first into the ground, groaning in pain. Revy turns to Rock and yells "Rock?! ROCK FUCKING SAY SOMETHING!" Holly overhears this and yells "The fuck is that?! Is that English?! I think I hear Yanks!"

Revy grabs onto Rock's left arm and shakes it, only to exhale in relief as Rock turns to her and nods, signaling that he's alive. Satisfied, Revy rises onto her knees and shoves a box to the right. She steadies her MP5A3 on the metallic shelf and fires three rounds at Holly. The first bullet strikes her in the right ribs, the second gashes the right side of her neck, and the final bullet strikes slightly to the right of the center of her bandana, punching a hole through her head, killing her. Her right hand twitches, causing her dead body to fire her Steyr upwards at the ceiling as she falls on her back. Hao continues firing his Norinco Type 56, causing Revy to drop to the ground as bullets zip over her head, boxes of paper being shred into pieces.

Revy turns to Rock, who is still lying on his stomach, and says "You okay? For fuck's sake, say something!" Rock tries to rub his forehead, his helmet stopping him. He touches his helmet and notices a large dent in it. Realizing what happened, Rock says "I got shot in the helmet. Had I not worn it…I would be dead. Oh my God…I almost died just now…" Revy crawls to the left and says "Well your fucking fine now so shut up and let's kill this dickhead and move on." Rock growls and says "No…I'm not fine. I'm fucking angry. I'm going to kill this little shit right now." He holsters his Uzi, reaches for his CZ-75, and unholsters it. Pulling back on the slide, Rock climbs to his feet, using the shelves for support.

As he hears the sound of the click of a rifle and the sound of a magazine being removed, Rock runs along the nearby wall and yells "SHIH-NEY KUSOTARE (DIE MOTHERFUCKER)!" He fires as he runs, raining bullets in Hao's direction, the latter hiding behind a shelf. As Rock comes face to face with Hao, the latter of which is holding his rifle in front of him like a shield, Rock walks toward him and pulls the trigger, firing his last five shots as he menacingly walks toward Hao. The first two bullets miss Hao, striking the ground, the third bullet strikes Hao's rifle in its metallic frame, causing Hao to raise it the air out of reflex, the fourth bullet strikes Hao in the right lung, and the final bullet strikes Hao in the stomach, sending him onto his back. Rock gets within a foot of Hao, growls at him, and points his pistol at Hao's head, only to be disappointed when pulling the trigger results in empty clicks. He watches as Hao coughs out blood, spitting it onto his shirt, yelling in agony.

Revy approaches Rock, aiming her MP5A3 at Hao. Rock kicks the rifle out of Hao's arms, sending the rifle a couple of feet away from Hao. He winces in pain and rubs his right foot against his left foot. Still angry, Rock rips Revy's CZ-75 out from her waist-side holster and fires three more shots into Hao, the first two striking his gut, and the last one piercing his heart, killing him.

As Rock hands Revy her CZ-75 back, she asks "The fuck did that all the come from?" Rock ejects the spent magazine on his own CZ-75 and says "I almost died just now. That made me a little angry. I think you can relate." He fishes out a fresh magazine and slams it in, pulling the slide back on his pistol. As Rock holsters his pistol and draws his Uzi, Revy stares at Rock, and then at the ground, mustering a "Heh." The two turn toward a barely visible door leading to the opposite end of the docks.

As the two approach the door, they hear a man yell in a general Sydney Australian accent, the man saying "Holly! Holly you alright there?! I heard the gunfire, hold on! It's me, Felix!" The man kicks open the door and sticks his Browning BDA pistol through the doorway, the gun soaked in the rain. The man, revealed to be a muscular, middle aged Indonesian man with short, black hair combed back and a five O'clock shadow, wearing a horizontally striped brown, blue, and white buttoned polo, beige cargo shorts, and black sneakers. Out of nowhere, Revy grabs Felix by his right wrist and drives the left side of his head into the doorframe. As Felix staggers from the blow, Revy twists his right arm upward with her left hand, bringing him to one knee. She then puts the barrel of her CZ-75 under Felix's chin and pulls the trigger, sending the bullet through the top of Felix's head, killing him. Blood and skull fragments mingle with the rain as Revy tosses his lifeless corpse onto the ground, the corpse awkwardly landing on its back. Before Revy's eyes, a small, one room building stands soaked in the rain, with an antennae sticking out from behind the dock in front of them, slightly shrouded in the currently dark sky. A ramp leads down the ledge, with water flowing down it. A few feet away from Felix's body is a row of crates. Rock exits the warehouse, holding his Uzi in his right hand and Revy's MP5A3 in his left.

Suddenly, a white Western European-looking man runs up the ramp, his left hand on the guardrail and his right hand on a Browning Hi-Power pistol. The man is bald, sporting a thick goatee, and wearing a light green buttoned collared shirt with dark green palm trees patterned on it, a white undershirt, a gold chain, black track pants, and brown sneakers. He yells in a general Sydney Australian accent "Felix?! Goddamn this all to hell!" The Australian man fires his pistol with one hand, his body tilted sideways as he strafes toward the two. Revy and Rock duck into the crates, with Rock tossing Revy's MP5A3 at her as the crates come apart. She catches the submachine gun and stands up, arcing forward as she strafes to the left and shoots. A bullet strikes the Australian man in the right shoulder, followed by another bullet that strikes him in the crotch. The man yells in agony and staggers back, slipping on the ramp and tumbling out of view. Revy nudges Rock and says "I'm checking the ramp and everything below that shit. You check the building." Rock nods and says "Stay safe Revy." Revy laughs and says "Broncos playing in the divisional round today. Gonna take more than these dickheads to keep me from watching that."

The two split off, with Revy running toward the ramp. Spotting the Australian hanging onto a post at the end of the ramp, the ramp leading to a series of wooden stairs that reach a platform with a 20 foot long white yacht docked by it, the yacht lit by a few lights, Revy slides legs first onto the slippery ramp and kicks the Australian off the ramp, sending him screaming as he falls. She grabs the wooden post with her left hand and hangs on as the Australian lands back first onto the back of the yacht, killed by the fall. She spots another white Western European-looking man, the man sporting short black hair, dressed in a blue tracksuit with white vertical stripes on the sides, wielding an AK-74. The spots the dead Australian on the rear deck and yells in a general Sydney Australian accent "Oi, fuck! What the bloody hell is going on?!" He turns around and looks up, only to receive a bullet into his left forearm. The Australian, tracksuit wearing man crawls into the interior of the yacht as bullets rain down.

Rock approaches the one room building, crouching behind the door. He overhears a man speak English in a thick broad Queensland Australian accent, the man saying "Settle down Thirith. You want to go the bloody 'murder-suicide' route, I'll gladly oblige you with my fist through ya fucking skull, but I ain't going to die here mate. Drop the gun, ya fucking loon!"

Rock kicks the door down and jumps in with his Uzi pressed against his his hip, joining a Mexican Standoff between a tall, muscular, 40-something year old Punjabi man and a Cambodian man, the Punjabi man sporting thick combed back black hair that is tied into a ponytail and a trimmed, black beard that connects with his hair. He is dressed in a blue Hawaiian shirt patterned in white hibiscus flowers, the shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing his slightly hairy barrel chest and a huge colored tattoo of the head of a roaring Bengali tiger that covers his entire abdomen. He is wearing worn, slightly torn, dark grey jeans, the jeans supported by a brown leather belt, and light grey leather sandals. He is wearing frameless sunglasses and a gold watch on his left wrist, and is aiming a Tec-9 at the Cambodian man standing several feet away from him, holding the Tec-9 with only his right hand.

Across from the Punjabi Australian man, a Cambodian man aims a CZ-75. The Cambodian man is clean shaven with shoulder length black hair, wearing a black and red vertically striped collared, buttoned dress shirt, black slacks, and brown tennis shoes. The Cambodian man, Van Thirith, alternates between aiming his CZ-75 at the Punjabi Australian man and at Rock. The Punjabi Australian mutters "Ah shit," and turns toward Rock, ignoring Van Thirith. He drops his Tec-9 onto the ground and puts his hands behind his head, dropping to his knees. Van Thirith sneers at the Punjabi Australian man, and then turns his CZ-75 toward Rock. The Punjabi Australian man says "Ay, I laid down my gun, mate. I know where to fold 'em. Listen here mate, I got Aussie citizenship. Goin' to make it a mighty pain in the arse to prosecute. You speak English? This here bloke can't. Maybe we can work out a deal. Let me save you the trouble and tell you my name. It's Jaggi. Victor Jaggi."

Rock glances at Victor Jaggi, and then back at Van Thirith, his Uzi pointed at the Cambodian mob boss. After a pause, sweat running down his forehead, Rock suddenly says "I'm listening." Thirith and Jaggi both raise eyebrows at Rock as Jaggi says "Fancy accent you have there, mate. Don't reckon it sounds like what these Viets been yacking with." Rock's heart rate accelerates, his gun focused on Thirith. He struggles to look at both Jaggi and Thirith at the same, anticipating the worst. After swallowing his saliva, Rock bluffs "I'll show you my passport when I take you in." Jaggi nods and says "Aight mate. I got money. A lot of money. More bloody quid then you ever laid your slanted eyes on. I got crew that you could take, make nice with your soggie supervisors. Take this dickhead cunt and cut me loose. Oi, the quid ain't here mate…so don't get cute."

"That...bargaining your crew away might be a problem…" Rock mutters, his eyes alternating between Jaggi and Thirith at five second intervals. Jaggi sighs and asks "Felix is dead? The Indonesian? What about Gerry and Vernon? Holly, the one with the bandana?" Rock hears his own heart beat, a line of sweat wetting his already soaked balaclava. He says "Felix…yes. Holly, yes. The one with the palm trees shirt is dead." Jaggi sighs and says "That's Vernon. Guess Gerry is still out there." Suddenly, gunfire breaks out from outside, as Rock and Thirith nearly open fire at each other. Hyperventilating and wracked with worry, Rock musters "Gerry…not anymore." Under his breath, Rock adds "I hope." Jaggi looks up, smiles, and says "You ratbags don't cunt around, that's the bloody oath I tell you!"

Van Thirith glares furiously at Jaggi, unsure of what he is saying. He yells "Cung cấp thông tin để lợn (Providing information to the pigs)?! Đừng đụ với tôi (Do not fuck with me)!" Jaggi smirks and says "I'm gonna make you bloody rich, mate. You think I haven't busted out of the mop and pail before, ay? I ain't your everyday wanker, mate. Bangkok Hilton couldn't hold me inside…and your Hanoi Hilton can't hold a bloody candle to that!"

At his threshold, Van Thirith yells out "IM LẶNG, IM LẶNG, IM LẶNG (SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP)!" Rock thrusts his arms at Van Thirith, his Uzi pointed at him, his eyes glancing at Jaggi's Tec-9. Jaggi smirks and says "We could stand here till Cup Day mate. Either send in the divvy vans or let me go and let us crack the four ex. Choice is simple."

Suddenly, Revy calmly steps into the office, saying "Hey Rock, the fuck you pointing at? Let's fuck on…" She steps inside, CZ-75 in hand, face to face with Victor Jaggi. She turns right and spots Van Thirith, aiming her pistol at him out of reflex. She then turns the gun toward Jaggi and says "You…motherfucker you supposed to be dead!" Victor Jaggi raises his left eyebrow, looks to the ground, and laughs, saying "Oi, I reckon I know who you are. You're that psycho chink from that Black Lagoon mercenary doovalacky. So…you ain't soggies now…ain't ya two…"

A silence breaks out amongst the four, as Jaggi's arms tighten behind his head. The silence lasts for a minute. Out of nowhere, the microphone sounds out "Are you done yet?!"

A pull of the trigger. Seven bullets fly out of Rock's Uzi before Van Thirith could pull his own trigger. As Van Thirith squeezes the trigger, a bullet strikes the barrel, flinging the pistol out of his hands, as two bullets strike his left lung, a third bullet strikes his left shoulder, and a fourth bullet hits dead center in his neck. He staggers into a desk, leans on it, and then turns right and falls onto his face. Jaggi immediately grabs his Tec-9 as Revy fires at him. He runs out of the path of the bullets and fires his Tec-9 at a window, jumping right shoulder first through it, landing on a wooden outdoor floor. As he climbs up a rotting, wooden guardrail, and prepares to leap into the water, two bullet strike him in his left ass cheek. "Ah fuck…me!" Jaggi yells, turning around to face Revy. He raises his Tec-9 at Revy and yells "You…septic tank cunt!" Revy smiles sadistically and squeezes the trigger, firing a bullet into his left ribs, following by another bullet into his stomach. The wooden guardrail caves in as Jaggi leans backwards, yelling in pain as a chunk of the guardrail falls off, sending him 50 feet into the water. Revy laughs and yells "You're now vegemite for the fish, you dipshit fuck!"

She takes a step back as rain enters the office building, looking down to see Van Thirith clutching his throat, gasping for air. After a few seconds, his body goes stiff. Revy then turns around to find Rock staring directly at an opened briefcase full of plastic bags of ecstasy pills, the multicolored pills shaped like round, thick, tiny disks. His eyes remain fixated at the pills until the microphone sounds off yet again "Minh is losing way too much blood! If you don't head back now, he is going to die!"

Onboard the Black Lagoon, Rock lies on his back, dug into his bed. He is wearing a sleeveless white shirt and black gym shorts. An opened can of 'Hanoi Beer' on his lap, Rock meditates on everything that just transpired. In a nearby hull, he can hear Dutch, Benny, and Tuyết yelling at each other. Tuyết yells out "Well you can't just cut his leg off!" Benny yells back "Pardon me, but gangrene is going to settle in soon! There are fucking bone pieces sticking out!" Dutch jumps in "Look, I have this power saw. Either we do this or wait until we get into a hospital, but by how he looks, I don't think he has enough time before we have to cut off everything below the waist. Can we get this done? Ippolito is steering the boat and I don't think he knows what the hell he is doing."

"At least the meds are working," Benny mutters "he probably fucked up his throat from all that screaming." Suddenly, a power saw is turned on, and shortly afterwards, Benny yells "Fuck all this blood all over the place! Goddamnit!" Out of nowhere, Rock could hear Minh screaming and gasping in pain. Dutch yells out, "I thought the meds were working…why is he grasping at his heart? He's having a heart attack!" The power saw continues to go on, stopping after a few seconds. All Rock could hear is silence, until Tuyết speaks out "He's dead. His pulse is giving me nothing. He's done."

From another section of the ship, Rock overhears Revy yell "Quyen is fine! Ngoc got the bullet out of her." Benny yells back "Good. We lost Minh. Heart attack it seems like." "That fucking sucks," Revy replies with indifference. She steps into Rock's cabin and seals the door behind her. She is dressed in her black tank top and blue corduroy shorts. Revy nods at Rock and asks "You heard all that?" Rock nods and says "Yeah."

She sits down on Rock's bed, saying "Loan is taking care of the van. Ippolito said that Marty wants us to dump all the secret police gear overboard. Shame, wouldn't mind keeping a few of those vests. Hope that annoying fuck doesn't get caught. I'd say we did a fucking job well done." Rock blankly stares at Revy and takes a sip of beer. Revy sighs and says "You okay, partner?" Rock continues to blankly stare at Revy, saying "Maybe. I don't know. Not every day you get paid over $12,000 to kill at least seven people…in my case." "That what you thinking about?" Revy inquires. Rock answers "Not really. I am more thinking about how I almost died." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Oh what the fuck?! You're alive, that's what counts. Idiot." Rock shakes his head and says "I'm not worried about it. It just made me feel a little philosophical. That's all." Revy smirks and asks "And what groundbreaking discoveries did you uncover, Socrates?" Rock cracks a weak smile and says "I'm not so sure I found anything yet."

Revy glares at Rock, her smirk morphing into a weak, pained smile. She says "After you shot that guy in the warehouse…you stepped back. I saw it again. Like with Fabiola. You took a step back. Like you really took a step back. Not like after Luca. No meth involved. Just you." Rock simply replies with a "Hmph." The two enter a solemn silence, listening to the sounds outside the room. After a minute, Rock asks "Who's Victor Jaggi?"

Revy fishes a pack of Natural American Spirit cigarettes out of her pocket and pulls out a pair of cigarettes. She hands one to Rock, who finishes his beer and crushes it with his hand. Rock tosses the can onto the floor and puts the cigarette in his mouth. After putting her cigarette into her mouth, she fishes out a lighter and lights her cigarette, followed by Rock's cigarette. Cigarette smoke starts mingling in the room as Revy says "Victor Jaggi is a sick fuck that makes Kim Jong-il look like Mother Teresa. He's a psychotic Indian Australian pirate…smuggler, whatever the fuck he is now. On a list of fucked up psychos that I ever met in my life, he's in contention for the gold fucking medal, and believe me…that list has more names then the fucking U.S. Declaration of Independence." Rock nods and says "I'm listening."

Revy exhales smoke and continues "Victor Jaggi was a former gunner for the Phuket Merchant Cloak. They are a rival mercenary courier group like us, except they are based out of Phuket. On our first job with Benny, we were hired by a now defunct crime ring from Denpasar, Indonesia. They hired us to hijack a yacht carrying random rich people from Singapore…with the intent to ransom them out. Course those stupid fucks in Denpasar also hired the Phuket Merchant Cloak for the same job, just in case. We arrived in the Java Sea just as they were hijacking the yacht, right in the middle of the actual hijacking. Dutch sent me and Benny on board with guns. Yea…Benny. His idea was to have Benny take control of the boat. He was so useless that he almost shot me by accident, then said some things that really got me pissed off. I was so pissed off that, in my rage, I killed one of the passengers for looking funny at me. Around that time, Dutch jumped onto the yacht and caught up with us. He sent Benny back onto the Lagoon and gave me a talk on how I was fucking up the operation. Around that time, the Phuket Merchant Cloak found us and we ended up shooting at each other, though we didn't kill each other over there. The Phuket Merchant Cloak was a six person operation. Three of them did a mutiny against the other three and stole their boat during the shootout. Thing is, they kidnapped all of the targeted passengers under our noses, leaving behind the bartender and a couple of waitresses. Victor Jaggi led that little mutiny."

"What happened afterwards?" Rock inquires, curious. Revy takes a drag on her cigarette and says "We teamed up with what remained of the Phuket Merchant Cloak, which was headed by this short, Thai woman named Sudarat. She commanded the yacht, we commanded our boat. We barely managed to keep on his trail…following him into Bawean Island in the Java Sea. He hid in a small jungle, leaving Sudarat's boat on the coast. Me, Dutch, Sudarat, and another guy whose name I forgot, doesn't matter, we went after Jaggi as Benny and this other guy watched the boats. We found a trail left by Jaggi, maybe intentionally, of arms. People's arms. Then legs. The sick fuck hacked up some of the passengers and used them as bread crumbs. We found a small shack where we took out two of the mercs that double-crossed Sudarat. Now that's where it really became some 'Apocalypse Now' shit. Heads on spikes, people burnt to a crisp, a couple of passengers that I'm sure were raped but I couldn't tell whether it was before or after their brains were literally bashed out of their skulls, people hanging by the neck with their own fucking intestines. Dutch said that some of the bodies looked partially eaten. I hope to fuck that it was rats or something. Well, Dutch and I split off from Sudarat and that other guy. We found him near a waterfall with a wooden box full of watches, rings, small valuable stuff. He shot Dutch in the stomach and took off to the waterfall. He knew my name…Sudarat later told us that she did research on her competitors…so at least I know he wasn't stalking us. We shot at each other and I think I hit him around the shoulder area. He fell off the cliff and into the waterfall…which was like thirty feet high. He dropped the box and we split the valuables between the six of us. The whole job was fucked to all hell, so we got nothing from the Indonesians. Sudarat and Dutch, after he was fixed up, made an agreement to split our territory between everything west of Thailand and east of Thailand…though we kinda fuck with that agreement at times. So yea."

Rock glares in shock at Revy's tale and asks "What the fuck? Hanging people with their intestines? Eating them?!" Revy smirks and says "Yeah…seeing all that knocked me out of my 'Whitman Fever' and actually made me sick. I saw some sick shit in my life, but that was up there with the sickest. He's one of those guys that do those fucked up things in wars that end up talked about decades afterwards, like what your country did to China back in WW2, no offense." Rock waves his hand left and right and shakes his head, saying "None taken. I know exactly what you mean."

Revy arcs back and lays her back on Rock's stomach, saying "Can't believe that dickhead survived. Guess it comes with being a former Olympic swimmer, according to Sudarat. At least that fuck is dead now…four shots and a fifty foot drop? I take my chances with betting that he's fish meat. Drowned I say." Rock exhales smoke and says "I hope. Knowing all that actually scares me, looking back. I was in the same room with that guy. Hopefully we will never see him again…hopefully." Revy nods and says "Yeah."

After a minute of silence, Revy asks "So…about that stuff." Rock turns around and reaches for a plastic bag full of ecstasy pills that were hidden behind his pillow. He holds the bag into the air and asks "You mean this?" Revy nods and says "Yeah…that. What you plan to do with it?" Rock removes his cigarette from his mouth and extends his left arm toward a nearby desk, an ashtray on the desk. He knocks ash off his cigarette and places it back into his mouth. Scanning the bag of pills, he says "I'm going to sell it."

* * *

 **AN:** Giant chapter, I know, but in my head, I couldn't justify splitting it up. So yeah, enjoy.


	6. Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag

A twist of a cabin door handle and the metallic cabin door creeks open. Rubbing his forehead, Rock steps inside, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and black gym shorts. He steps into the armory, unchanged aside from a pile on the ground to the left of Rock, the pile consisting of a wallet, a green cell phone, a set of keys, a packet of napkins, and a blue lighter, and a grey sleeping bag laying on the ground to the right of Rock, sealed and stuffed with Minh's corpse. The sleeping bag is wrapped in three metallic chains, each chain attached to a round weight, the zipper seal covered in duct tape. Rock glances pensively at Minh's concealed corpse, closes the door, and then turns around, facing the pile on the floor. He reaches down and picks up the cell phone.

Entering into the contact listing on the cell phone, Rock scans the names. His eyes fixate on a pair of contacts that are next to each other, the one on top, 'TN', and the one below it, 'Nguyễn'. Rock pulls his own cell phone out and begins to transcribe the two numbers onto his phone. As he finishes transcribing the 1st contact, the cabin door slides open, causing Rock to hurriedly pocket both phones. Stepping inside, Dutch, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and black track pants, flinches slightly at the sight of Rock and asks "What the hell you doing here?" Rock quickly crouches and puts his right index finger to his lips, saying "Shh!" Dutch raises his hands in confusion, shrugs his shoulders, and seals the door behind him. Turning back to Rock, he asks "Well? What's up?"

Rock exhales a deep breath and says "I'm picking up Thinh's number from Minh's cell. I didn't tell anyone, but I grabbed a bag of ecstasy on the way out. No one saw me, well, aside from Revy." Dutch glares at Rock incredulously and asks "Well what? You thinking of selling it to Thinh directly?" Rock nods, smiles, and says "That's right." "Are you fucking retarded? Marty promised to sell ecstasy to Thinh. Marty, our client, who just put 12 and half grand into everyone's bank accounts. And now you want to undercut him? Are you trying to make me look like an idiot?!" Dutch yells out, causing Rock to "Shh" his boss one more time.

Dutch cringes and speaks out "Are you on some kind of power trip? We are potentially going to make 100,000 in US currency by the end of this week or so, 25 grand each. We haven't made money like that since the time Chang hired us to escort that ship full of sex slaves. Why the hell would Thinh even listen to you?" Rock looks to the ground, shakes his head in frustration, and replies "Because Thinh asked me for details about Black Lagoon Company. He specifically asked for the person to contact in case he needed a job. So I gave him your number. I figured that having the most powerful criminal in South Vietnam as a client wouldn't be such a bad thing, given Roanapur's proximity to this country. Sorry about not telling you. I never had the chance until now."

Dutch glares blankly at Rock, turns his head to the side, taps his feet to the rhythm of his thoughts, and suddenly asks "What the hell? That was what you and Thinh were talking about at the firing range?" Rock nods immediately and nervously replies "Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Did I make a mistake?" Dutch shakes his head and says "No, you may have made us a lot of extra money in the future. Good salesmanship. That still doesn't change the fact that we are cutting into Marty's business, if you go and sell Thinh those pills."

"Marty has been paying us way above our usual rates. Given who we are up against, it's justified, but still. Remember the last two times we were being paid for way more then we should have been? Luca and those Neo Nazis?" Rock counters, his voice slightly anxious. Dutch laughs and says "So you think that if your boss is paying you too much, you should screw him over? Hey Rock, I'll gladly keep that in mind." Rock rolls his eyes and plants his left hand on his face. After a short pause, Rock asks "How much?"

"5% for me. And 5% for Benny, since I'm sure as shit ain't driving you to Ho Chi Minh City. I'm going to find a beach and treat myself to a nice round of beers. As for you, good luck. Word gets to Marty, I don't know anything about this. Deal?" Dutch smiles and extends his right hand. Rock cracks a weak smile and extends his own right hand, shaking Dutch's. "Deal it is," Dutch calmly replies. He turns toward the sleeping bag and grabs onto the bottom of the bag. Struggling to lift it up, he says "Hey Rock, give me a hand here." Rock nods, transcribes the final number, and then tosses Minh's phone onto the pile of the rest of his belongings. He turns toward the cabin door and opens it, before retreating back to Dutch.

Sluggishly carrying Minh's dead body onto the deck of the Lagoon, Rock and Dutch drop his corpse onto the deck and pant in exhaustion. They are surrounded by nothing but water in every direction, several dozen miles off the Vietnamese coastline. A faint ocean breeze tickles their cheeks as the sun beats down on them, a storm spotted off in the distance. The two turn to the stern of the Lagoon, spotting Revy, dressed in a black tank top and blue corduroy shorts, Ippolito, dressed in his Napoli jersey and grey jeans, and Tuyết, dressed in her sleeveless burgundy shirt and black athletic pants. Revy knocks ash off her cigarette and into the ocean as Ippolito sips on a can of Hanoi Beer and Tuyết hums to herself.

Rock and Dutch lift the sleeping bag up and head toward the end of the stern, propping Minh's corpse onto the deck. "It got the weights tied on snugly, boss?" Revy inquires, taking a drag of her cigarette. Dutch nods and says, panting "Yeah…yeah. He's heavier then he looked." Ippolito finishes his beer and tosses the can overboard. He turns to the sleeping bag and grabs one of the chains with both hands. Tuyết approaches the three and grabs onto another ring of chains. Revy bites down on her cigarette and turns to the four, grabbing the last of the three chains as the five of them lift Minh's corpse off the deck with ease. They approach a section of the rear that lacks a guardrail, a small three step set of stairs leading onto the ocean, and toss the sleeping bag through the space in between. Minh's corpse falls head first into the ocean water, sinking in a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, Benny yells out from the bow, running at them, wearing his red and green Hawaiian shirt and beige slacks, holding in his right arm a sawed off leg still attached to the cuffs of dark green camouflage pants and a dark grey combat boot. He runs toward the five, holding the leg in his hand, yelling "We forget about Minh's foot." Dutch glares coldly at Benny, and then quickly at the leg. He rips the leg out of Benny's arms and chucks it several meters into the ocean. His demeanor unchanged, Dutch says "Get back to the radar. We had one too many close calls already, in this month alone." Ippolito sighs and shrugs his shoulders, saying "Watch that foot end up in Canada."

Sitting on a bench in front of a large, circular water fountain, Fred Viapiano takes a drag on his cigarette and scans the trees around him. Sunlight beating down on him, Viapiano arcs his head back, inside the same park that Hansel was shot to death in, courtesy of Balalaika's henchmen. He is dressed in a dark-blue collared polo, black slacks held up by a brown, leather belt, and brown leather shoes. He is wearing his stainless steel watch and his gold ring, taking occasional glances at the time. He starts singing to himself "La Mia Mania" by Gianni Morandi.

As he is singing, his eyes follow a white, blonde woman dressed in a dark blue business dress, a white collared, buttoned undershirt, and black heels. As she enters the park, he sings "Tu porti un tredici al collo…e un corno nel borsellino (You wear a thirteen around the neck…and a trumpet in your purse). Che tocchi quando qualcuno…ti dice all'alba, buondi'(That when somebody touches…it says 'good day' at dawn)." She is holding a small, brown briefcase and is wearing thin-framed sunglasses, her hair tied into an elaborate knot. As Eda sits down next to Viapiano, Viapiano concludes his singing and knocks ash off his cigarette. After a minute long pause, Viapiano blurts out "You stunatz (retarded) or something? Missy, we are here to do an exchange, not a fucking job interview."

"Hey! You want me to arrive here in my tank top or my nun outfit?! I am trying to look a little low key, considering the circumstances," Eda annoyingly replies, cradling the briefcase in her arms. Viapiano lets out a laugh and says "That suit…in this park, in this weather, at this time of day, in this city…sorry miss but you might as well showed up in a suit of armor, heh. But hey, I digest." Eda raises an eyebrow at Viapiano and says "You mean you digress." "Yea. That. Now what you got for me?" Viapiano replies, pointing at the briefcase.

Eda sighs and roughly pushes the briefcase into Viapiano's stomach, causing him to wince. "Hey, fucking watch it!" Viapiano yells out as Eda says "Balalaika has been trying to get this massive casino built in downtown Roanapur. She had the license for the land, the rights to open a casino, and the paperwork to serve liquor, but she had trouble raising money. This has been an issue for the past three years. Chang's Triads wanted nothing to do with this for obvious reasons. That was the same with the Nigerians in Bangkok, as Chang and the boss for the Nigerian mafia, Emmanuel Babatunde Fajuyi, have an agreement going between the two. The Koreans weren't willing to pony up the cash, Balalaika wanted nothing to do with the other organized syndicates outside of Roanapur, and the Colombians and Vesuvio's Sicilian Mob ended up at war with Balalaika. After Vesuvio got shot by those lunatic twins, Ronnie Cuccia brought his crew into Roanapur. Balalaika and Cuccia were getting along…kinda…but Cuccia was stuttering on the yes to the deal. Eventually, your friend Luca came along, and I think Balalaika wanted to do business with him. You already know the rest."

Viapiano glares blankly at Eda and indignantly asks "How the fuck does this help me?" Stretching her neck, Eda replies "The initial construction of the casino was finished to the fourth floor when it collapsed overnight. The Thai foreman for the construction accused a Chinese bricklayer of fucking the thing up, claiming accurately that the guy was a cousin of the head of the Bangkok 14k Triads, Weiliang Kwok. Balalaika chased Weiliang's cousin out of the country and Weiliang almost went to blows with her. Cooler heads prevailed and the two organizations just keep their distance between each other. Now the reality is that the foreman was billing Balalaika for high quality cement, but was actually using cement so shoddy that it couldn't support my ass. He was embezzling the cash. That, plus a bunch of other things where he would nickel and dime Balalaika, the Thai foreman made a lot more money then he should have. After the thing collapsed, the Thai foreman quietly made an escape. If you want to know to where, I could give you that, as a second favor. I need to get in touch with my associates in the States. I need them to use some satellites, pull some files, so on. I think Balalaika might want to hear this, could help you in negotiations. Maybe even get that casino project restarted."

Viapiano slightly frowns and nods, impressed with the wealth of information that he just received. He says "I'm assuming the briefcase got more details about this. I'm using up my second favor…call in your GPS." Eda nods and says "Gotcha. It will be done. Remember, this will be favor number two. You only have one more remaining. After that, we are square." Viapiano smirks and says "Alright lady…we'll be square." Eda walks away from Viapiano, only to suddenly turn around. She raises her right hand slightly and considers saying something, only to stay silent and turn to the park's exit. As she exits the park, Viapiano turns toward the water fountain and cracks a wry smile.

Sitting on the bed in his hotel room in Nha Trang, dressed as he was before, Rock glares solemnly at his cell phone, the phone cradled in his hands. Looking up, he watches the television play a Vietnamese cartoon featuring a bluish grey wolf in a suit walking on two legs next to a display window. The wolf jumps through the window and tries to ransack the store, only to be chased out by animals walking on two legs, including a duck and chicken, each wielding clubs, and a dog dressed in a sleeveless brown set of tights. The wolf runs from the angry mob, only to be run over by a blue truck driven by a tiger in a pink shirt and a white rabbit riding shotgun. The tiger and the rabbit step out, placating the mob and tending to the wolf. As Rock watches the cartoon, he puts his cell phone down on the floor and opens a bag of chili flavored 'Toonies' crisps. Reaching inside, he pulls out an imitation Cheeto covered in sweet chili powder and eats the Vietnamese snack, eying the words "Vi Cay (Chili)" on the bag. He licks his fingers and returns to his cell phone.

Behind him, Revy lies on the floor, doing crunches. She is topless and wearing black track pants. After each completion, she strikes her stomach with significant force. Grunting and wincing with each completion, she mutters "31…32…33…34…and 35." Rock stares at Revy and shrugs his shoulders, asking "Why are you hitting yourself?" "Building endurance, Rocky boy. My abdomen being sore won't stop some asshole from hitting it," Revy replies, wiping sweat off her forehead. She reaches onto the wrinkled bed sheets and wipes her face and chest with them. Cleaning sweat off her breasts, she asks "So, Rock…you going to make the call now?"

Rock grabs a fist full of chili crisps and greedily devours them, licking powder off the palm of his hand. He turns toward the bathroom and enters it, turning on the sink. Letting hot water run, he hurriedly washes his hands with just the hot water, the water slightly stinging him. Rock turns off the water and wipes his hands on a white towel with thin blue stripes. Stretching back his neck, Rock says "Alright, I'm ready. Let's do this." As Revy turns off the television, Rock turns to his cell phone and picks it up. He dials the number listed as 'TN #1', nervously waiting for a response as Revy stares at him, stone-faced. Suddenly, he hears a voice at the other line.

A woman anxiously says "Này là ai (Who is this)? Alô (Hello)? Alô?!" Rock hyperventilates and glares at Revy, shaking his head. Thinking fast, he says "Anata no jidosha hoken no amari o haratte iru (Are you paying too much for your car insurance)?" Suddenly, the woman hangs up the phone as Rock breathes a sigh of relief and Revy stares at Rock in confusion. "Wrong number. Asked her if she was paying too much for her car insurance," Rock says, smiling, as Revy breaks out into laughter. Wiping away tears of laughter, she says "Hey Rock, maybe if the whole drug dealer thing doesn't work out, you could try sales." Rock takes a step back, smirks, and points at Revy with both index fingers, saying "Hi, I'm Rock Okajima. And this '65 Cadillac has 50 MPG and suicide doors!"

As Revy cracks up in laughter, Rock deletes 'TN #1' from his phone and turns to 'TN #2'. He stares at Revy and nods at her, causing her to grow quiet. Rock dials the number and waits. Suddenly, Thinh Nguyễn yells out "Cái quái đụ bạn muốn (What the fuck you want)?!" Rock nervously smiles and says "Hey Thinh. It's me Rock. From Black Lagoon Company." Thinh replies with "Oh? What this about?" Rock arcs his head back and says "I came across this business opportunity and I am absolutely…ecstatic about it. Very ecstatic. I found this business opportunity yesterday…it…popped up during work. I want to run this through in you person though. You interested?" Thinh laughs and replies with "Very interested actually. Meet me at the place behind the place we met. The place that I also own. Meet me around 8 PM. Call me before you get there. And next time, try not to call when I'm in having my dick sucked. Thank you. Bye."

Rock frowns and nods to himself, tossing the phone onto the bed. "Well?" Revy inquires, curious. Rock blankly answers "He said he is interested, that he wants us to meet him at the lumber mill behind the warehouse, around 8 PM. And that I should never interrupt him when he is in the middle of a blowjob." "Nice detail!" Revy sarcastically replies, reaching for a black bra, her breasts exposed. Yawning, she says "We should get Benny onboard to drive us. Does Dutch know?" Rock nods and says "Told Dutch. He gets five percent, and Benny gets five percent as the driver. His idea." Revy rolls her eyes and says "Fine alright. Not like we are going to be short on cash. We are looking at a shit load of money recently…thinking about spending it someplace?" Rock cracks a weak smile and says "Maybe. Maybe. I want to see how the ecstasy deal closes. But yeah, I have been thinking about that."

Fastening her bra, she says "Well get Benny and tell him the job. We need to get a car from a rental, get it for a day. Should be one on the outskirts of the city." Rock nods and says "Yeah, good point. I'll go see to Benny right now. You get the ecstasy into one of our luggage cases. The pills are under the bed, next to my M9."

"ARRRGH! BLOODY HELL!" a man yells as he digs scorching hot pliers into his left ass cheek, a square bandage right above point of entry. Lying on a shower mat in a bathroom, Victor Jaggi pulls a bullet out of his ass, his ass smelling like antiseptic, completely naked aside from his watch. He then immediately presses a square bandage on the hole, with blood trekking out, breathing heavily. He climbs up to his feet and glances down at his chest, staring at the two square bandages on his left rib and stomach. He smirks to himself and speaks to himself "I ain't that bloody daft. Gonna go let a genuine doctor go to work. Ain't that the bloody truth, Miss Nguyễn?"

He turns left toward a bathtub filled with the corpse a middle aged Vietnamese woman, her throat crudely slit, and the corpse of a large Golden Retriever, the dead dog with multiple stab wounds. "Oh why the bloody long face? You and Lassie had a long, stuffed day ay? Hey gander here missy. I don't bloody know how you go about in your house, but from where I come from, that's a bit bloody rude. Show some fucking respect to your guests, mate. Ey, you don't welcome me in your house in bloody kindness or not even a single coldie, you say fuck all when I slit your bloody throat with a fucking kitchen knife, and now you giving me the bloody silent treatment. Do I ask much, ay? Do I? All I bloody wanted was to slash your skinny little neck and now you gander at yours truly like he's a bloody bevan. Hey, me oldies raised me better then that before I drowned them in a fucking pond. Ey? So show some bloody respect!"

Jaggi kneels onto the mat, picks up two bent bullets, tosses the two into the toilet, and attempts to plus them, failing miserably. He ignores the bullets and lifts the blood stained shower mat up, draping it over the bath tub. "Oh I bloody get it miss. It came to me, philosophical-like and all. You just want a lie down and doze off with Lassie there. Oh how bloody rude of me to insinuate! I just leave you two to it while I drench your place in petrol and burn your skin till it smells like charcoal."

Wincing in pain as he walks out the bathroom and into a bedroom, Jaggi says "Going to fuck up that little septic when I get my hands on her. She picked the wrong bloke to have a blue with. She and her little mate there, Rock was it? 500 dollar sunglasses, up in shit. Silk shirt, fucking ruined. My favorite watch, fucking rooted like shit. Gonna smash those sodomites like mozzies when I get my bloody hands on them. Ah fuck…the blue heelers got my tinny and my pingers, I'm out of quid. Got to give a ring to Djoko, I bet that bloke is still in Makassar. Get quidded up, gunned up, see if he got work for myself. I sure fucking ain't returning to this giant shithouse. Might even pay a little visit to Derrick in Roanapur, see if that cockroach got something for me."

Dressed in a set of grey leather sandals, dark green shorts, and a black and white striped Club Juventus Zinadine Zidane jersey, Laurent Reynolds waits patiently in a chrome elevator, the button to the fifth floor alit. Whistling to himself while situated in an apartment building in Roanapur, Reynolds glances at his stainless steel watch and notices that the time is 5:53 P.M. Suddenly, the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open, revealing a pristine hallway with red and yellow striped carpets, beige walls adorned with mirrors, and a couple impressionist style paintings of the coastline around the Gulf of Thailand, the paintings flanking the elevators. He steps out of the elevator and mutters to himself "Salle cinq cent onze…salle cinq cent onze (Room 511…room 511)." Discovering a wall plaque that signals that rooms 501-515 are to the right, he turns right and eyes the numbers on the doors. "Salle…non, non, pas celui-là…on y va! (Room…no, no, not that one…here we go!)" Reynolds mutters to himself, walking in front of room 511. He knocks twice on the door and resumes whistling to himself.

Suddenly, the door creaks open, revealing Songxie Tong, dressed in a sleeveless purple shirt and dark green gym shorts, walking with only grey socks. He has grown his hair slightly, and his moustache has become more noticeable. Faint whiskers appear on the bottom of his chin. He appears to be holding something in his right hand, his hand hidden behind his back. Blankly nodding at Reynolds, he says "Get in. Too much attention. Now."

Reynolds steps inside, confused, as Songxie closes the door, revealing a Glock 17L in his right hand. Scanning his apartment, Reynolds notices mahogany floors, beige painted walls, a Samsung plasma HDTV on a wooden display case to the right of the door, a black Nintendo 64 under the top of the display case and flanked by two grey controllers, a mahogany coffee table between the plasma HDTV and a dark red leather sofa, a kitchen on the right with a shiny metallic kitchen top and refrigerator, and a pool table inside a dimly lit room in front of him with a large curtained window and a door to a balcony behind the pool table. To the left of the pool table is a bookcase full of VCR tapes, CD albums, and a few N64 videogame cartridges, with a large stereo system on the bottom shelf. To the left and in the space between the dimly lit room and a sofa, a hallway leads to a pair of bedrooms and a closet. Reynolds nods to himself and says "Very nice place you have here. Pas ringard (Not tacky), cher, mais bon goût (expensive, but good taste), I think I'll take some ideas for my house."

Songxie locks the door to his apartment and holsters his Glock, saying "Want a drink? Beer? Scotch? I have some." Reynolds shakes his head and says "Nah, I came here in my car. I want to drive back with it." "Okay, the offer is unequivocally withdrawn," Songxie says, smirking to himself. "What?!" Reynolds replies, dumbstruck. Songxie snickers and says "Rosetta Stone. I've been learning proper English, so everyone could fuck away." Reynolds laughs and says "Ohh I get it. Say, if you want, I think I have a copy for Mandarin. That way you could also speak Chinese." Songxie blankly stares at Reynolds and asks "You met with Chang's boys? They said my Cantonese almost as bad as my English?" "Yep," Reynolds calmly responds. "Fuck you," Songxie calmly replies.

Reynolds chuckles and says "Anyway boss, quoi de neuf (what's new)? What you invite me here for?" Songxie motions Reynolds to sit on the leather sofa as he steps into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, Songxie reaches inside for a white can of Singha lager beer. Closing the fridge and opening the can, he takes a sip and notices Reynolds seated on the sofa. Songxie points his index finger at Reynolds, still holding the beer, and says "Chang has a friend of a friend in Sichuan province, in Kangding, part of Sichuan that borders Tibet. His friend collects Chinese truffles that look just like the ones in France, only a lot cheaper. Almost the same on the eyes, not on taste though, Chang said. His friend has a surplus and wants to offload them before they go bad and become pig feed. Chang had this passed to him by a friend. Chang then passed it to Ray Tak, and Ray passed it to me. I thought that if you have French citizenship, you could smuggle them in better."

Reynolds grimaces and says "Actually, I haven't paid taxes in several years, and aside from my family and a few friends, I'm officially regarded as having 'disappeared'. So I'd say my French citizenship has been revoked. I do have an idea on how to smuggle them in, and I could ask some friends to get into contact with someone…serious. See if they want to buy some 'freshly stolen French truffles'. I doubt we could sell them to legitimate suppliers…they would probably tell the difference. How much you want?"

Songxie shakes his head and says "I'm just helping Ray help Chang. You want to buy, I get his number. He speaks Sichuanese only…though, so I'll get Chang's friend to help you out in translating. You could then work out a number." Reynolds nods and says "Thanks…by the way...your English is coming out British. As in an accent." Songxie blankly replies with "Hong Kong. British colony until 97. What do you expect?" Reynolds smirks and says "You sure it's not the Rosetta Stone? Gotcha anyway…say, want to play a game on the 64? What multiplayer games you got?"

Songxie takes a sip of his beer and says "Check shelf for GoldenEye. It has multiplayer." Reynolds gets off the sofa and steps toward the shelf in the room with the pool table. He shuffles through various CD albums of American jazz, pop rock, and funk bands and Taiwanese pop bands, an assortment of VCR tapes of movies ranging from American film ' _High Noon'_ to Hong Kong Category III film ' _The Seventh Curse_ '. Reynolds pulls out a CD album and exclaims "Phil Collins? Earth Wind & Fire? Hall and Oates?!" Songxie gives Reynolds the finger and says "Fuck you, they go well with the scotch and the fucking."

Reynolds shrugs his shoulders and places the album back in its place. He spots the cartridge for 007 GoldenEye, raises it toward Songxie, and asks "This one? Is it based on the movie?" Songxie takes a sip of beer and says "Yes and yes."

Reynolds steps toward the plasma TV and prepares to insert the cartridge into the N64. "Try blowing on the bottom first," Songxie blurts out, to which Reynolds gives him a perplexed look. "Trust me," Songxie adds. Reynolds shrugs his shoulders, blows out dust on the bottom of the cartridge, and inserts it into the N64. Songxie approaches the N64, turns on the power button, and then turns on the TV, revealing a Thai commercial for a Roanapur based law office. A press of another button reveals the title screen for the game. Songxie places his beer on the coffee table and grabs both controllers, handing one to Reynolds.

"Aw fuck, you missed the opening. Press the power button off and then back on," Songxie bemoans. Reynolds shrugs his shoulders and follows through as Songxie raises the volume. Suddenly, the Nintendo logo pops up as the song intro begins, followed by the Rare logo, and then the opening theme for GoldenEye kicks off, as Songxie and Reynolds marvel at the sound quality. "Look at the graphics! Fucking revolutionary! You could see actual arms and legs!" Songxie exclaims as Reynolds nods in agreement.

Songxie turns his attention to the game menu and maneuvers to the multiplayer option. He configures the match to be for two players, in the 'Complex' map, using only automatic weapons, and stipulating victory when someone reaches 10 points. He then proceeds to the character selection stage. Siphoning through the characters, Reynolds exclaims "They got Oddjob, Jaws, Mayday, and Baron Samedi. Those weren't in the movie…" "Well they are here in the fucking game!" Songxie annoyingly replies. He selects Arctic Commando as Reynolds selects Jaws. After a few more buttons being pressed, the match begins.

"How do I bite you?" Reynolds asks. "WHAT?! Oh…you fucking can't!" Songxie exclaims, annoyed at the question. "Connerie (Bullshit)! It's Jaws. That's what he does," Reynolds replies, as Jaws picks up a pixelated submachine gun. "Does Arctic Commando come with a portable sledgehammer? Ha, just kidding," Reynolds adds as Songxie exhales in annoyance. Suddenly, Jaws spots Arctic Commando coming from the distance as Reynolds fumbles with the controls. "Putain(Fuck)…who designed this controller?" Reynolds mutters as he mashes every button on the control. He managed to fire a burst of gunfire that kills Arctic Commando, right before he accidently presses the pause button. "Scratch one from Hotel Moscow, ha!" Reynolds exclaims as Songxie forces a chuckle and exhales a sigh of frustration.

A white four door Lada Samara cruises through the Xa lộ Hà Nội (Hanoi Highway), headed towards Ho Chi Minh City. The driver, Benny, still dressed in his Hawaiian shirt and slacks, turns on the headlights as the sky completely plunges into darkness, rain beating on the windows. Seated behind him is Rock, dressed in his salaryman dress shirt, his grayish green business suit, his grayish green tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes, scanning his package of ecstasy. Riding shotgun is Revy, dressed in her black tracksuit attire with the red triangle pattern, fingerless gloves, and combat boots. She fidgets in the vinyl upholstery of the car, as the radio, switched onto a Viet Pop station, plays "Cõi Hoa (Realm of the United)" by Lê Hồng Nhung.

"Hey Rock, you know the cops can look through the freaking doors, right?" Benny asks in a mixture of sarcasm and discomfort. Revy rolls her eyes and says "Benny, we're fucking with the type of cops that put jumper cables on your balls just to find out 'where's the pisser'. The local pigs don't exactly make me sweat, a'ight?" Benny glances at Rock and the rest of the rear upholstery and asks "How does it weigh? How many?" Rock raises an eyebrow and jokingly asks "Uh…English isn't my first language. You asking for how many kilos it weighs at?" "Well pardon me, you smartass. Yes, that was I'm getting at," Benny casually replies. Rock holds the bag of ecstasy in his hands and lifts it up and down. After a pause, he says "Half a kilo, I would say." Benny lets out a nervous laugh and says "I think that might be enough to get all three of us the needle." Rock rapidly blinks and hurriedly stuffs the bag of ecstasy into a small blue luggage case.

"Damn headache, head has been sore all day. I'm feeling a bit dazed," Rock mutters, rubbing his forehead. "Pardon, but sounds like you got yourself a concussion. The doc is gonna prescribe some rest as we get out of this extremely stupid idea and not piss off an extremely power Italian organization, on top of Vietnam's finest," Benny nervously speaks out. Revy digs her head into the vinyl seating and says "Benny, go easy on the acting like a pussy thing. It's a little annoying." Benny exhales out of frustration and keeps his eyes on the wheel, saying "Got nothing against our standard work. Just, thing is, this is extracurricular work, and there's a lot of unforeseen risk that needs to be factored in. That all."

Carefully passing a blue charter bus that has the words 'Việt Nam Điểm Tham Quan (Vietnam Sights)' on the sides of the bus, in white lettering, Benny asks "So Rock, you have an idea on how you going to do this deal?" Rock nods and says "Yeah. First…Revy, leave the Cutlasses in the car." Revy laughs and says "Haha, you made a funny. First time for everything." "I'm serious," Rock solemnly and quickly replies. Revy snorts and says "Benny's right. Your brains must be scrambled after getting shot in the helmet yesterday. Sleep in the car…Benny and I will sell the shit." Benny jerks his head at Revy and yells "What?!" As Revy darts a dirty look at Benny, Rock interrupts and says "I'm fine. Thinh Nguyễn has an agreement with Martin Zappala…he expects to get more narcotics shipped in from Marty's contacts. Therefore he won't lay a finger on us, since we are working for Marty. We will not get robbed, and I think it would look impolite to show up armed, knowing that Thinh could be a future client." "Fucking naiveté, I'd say. You're asking to get robbed," Revy blurts out, pointing her right index finger upwards for emphasis. Benny adjusts his glasses and says "Maybe that will happen, but Rock is right. Thinh is the least likely to cause problems for us in this deal. I'm more afraid of police catching us with such a large amount of party pills."

Revy smiles viciously and glares at Rock, saying "Alright…alright. No Cutlasses. Anything happens, I'm gonna blame you." Rock blinks and says "Alright, fine." "How are you going to sell him the stuff?" Benny asks, exiting the highway. Rock raises his shoulders in confusion and says "I…negotiate a price and sell him the stuff. What else to it?" Benny cracks up into laughter and says "Rock, do you even know the street price for ecstasy in Vietnam? Here's a tip I learned from my college days back in the States. You buy only one pill for a party. That will be enough. Cost went for around 8 bucks for the flat ecstasy things with the weird pictures on them. For pure pills, I'd imagine a bit more. Maybe twice more? That's the cost when it hit the streets, so to sell to a distributor, you going to have to sell for less."

Rock smirks and says "Good thing I didn't make them and just picked them up from those Australian smugglers." Benny raises an eyebrow and asks "Australian smugglers? Were they the people on that boat that Thinh mentioned?" Revy sadistically smirks and says "Oh yeah! Five of the fucks. You'd never guess it, but bossman was Victor Jaggi." "VICTOR JAGGI?! I thought that monster was dead!" Benny exclaims, stunned. "He's dead now. I shot him off a ledge, four bullets. Olympic swimmer or not, no way he survived that," Revy boasts, pleased with herself. Benny grimaces and stretches his neck, visibly uncomfortable. After a pause, he asks "Does Dutch know?" Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "I haven't gotten around to telling him." Rock blurts out "Same here. Can you lower the volume on the radio? I need to give Thinh a call, tell him we're close by."

Exiting the Lada Samara, in front of a lumber mill, Rock and Revy set their eyes on the reddish brown painted two floor building in the back and to the right of a white colored silo connected by catwalks to various other structures. A fleet of grey Kamaz 5460 flat-nosed trucks attached to white semi-trailers covers the rear flank of the reddish brown building. Gripping onto the blue luggage case with his right hand, Rock turns around to Benny and says "I'll call you when we're done. While we are gone, can you go to a drug store and get some painkillers and something to wash it down with? Thanks." Benny nods and says "You got it, man. I'm going to make trips around the city in the meanwhile, so the cops don't get suspicious. Call me when you're done. And good luck." Rock and Revy both respond with "Thanks," as Benny nods and drives off, leaving the two of them behind on the empty street.

The two step into the lumber mill, which seems virtually abandoned. Slightly wet from the rain, they slowly walk toward the reddish brown building, with Revy holding her hands in her pockets. Rock spots this and says "Get your hands out of your pockets. They are going to think that you are carrying guns." Revy looks up, shakes her head, and says "That's kinda the point." After a few more steps, she shrugs her shoulders and removes her hands out of her pockets. A couple steps after that, she blurts out "I need a smoke." Rock nods and says "Same here. I'm hoping Thinh will let us smoke in the office." "We can smoke now, the fuck's the problem?" Revy replies, slightly annoyed. Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know. I think it be more polite to ask if we could smoke there…I'm probably over thinking this deal." Revy smirks and sarcastically quips "Probably?"

The two approach the front door to the building, spotting a security camera fastened near the door frame. They each exhale a nervous sigh as Revy bangs on the door with her right fist. After a short pause, the door swings open, revealing a Vietnamese man with faded eyebrows, a five O'clock shadow, trimmed, short black hair, and thin, round, gold-framed glasses. He is dressed in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and grey sneakers, and is holding a cigarette in his mouth. Eying the blue luggage case in Rock's right hand, he says "Come in."

Rock and Revy follow the Vietnamese man into a dimly lit hallway with a caged generator on the right and an opened supply closet on the left. A red lit emits from a lamp on the generator, shrouding the hallway in a ghastly reddish hue. Behind Revy and Rock, Quyen, hidden behind the door, closes the very same door, dressed in a white and blue horizontally striped, buttoned t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and grey sandals, her left arm and shoulder in a sling. As Rock and Revy jerk their bodies in surprise, Quyen smiles and says "Hey. Got to search. Sorry."

Revy glares at the Vietnamese man, points, and yells "If that fuck so much as grazes me…!" The Vietnamese man calmly says "The name is Hùng, and please shut the fuck up. Quyen, kiểm tra cho vũ khí (check for weapons)." Rock lets go of his luggage case and faces the generator, placing the opened palms of his hands on the cage. Revy sighs and follows suit, as both of them slightly spread their legs. Hùng proceeds to frisk Rock for weapons on his person as Rock says "This is a waste of time. I didn't come to this looking to cause trouble." "Yeah, yeah," Hùng mutters as Quyen begins frisking Revy. Shortly afterwards, Hùng says "Mọi vật sạch sẻ (All clear)." He turns his attention to the luggage case as Quyen says "Okay, you good."

Hùng unzips the luggage case and pulls out the bag of ecstasy pills. He raises and lowers the bag, getting a sense of its weight, and says "Okay, looks good. We'll take you to Thinh." He jolts his head to his right, pointing at a nearby staircase. After an awkward pause, Rock realizes that he must go in front, and obliges, as Revy follows suit. Hùng, holding the package of ecstasy, walks behind Rock and Revy, as Quyen stays put and awkwardly fishes out a cigarette from a pack of Craven A's using only her right hand.

As Rock takes his first step onto the stairs, he overhears music faintly coming from the upper floor. He exhales a breath of anxiety and walks up the stairs, as Revy and Hùng calmly follow. Reaching the second floor, Rock notices three hallways, one to the left, one to the right, and one in front. On the hallway in front, a wooden door stands shut on the right wall, appearing to be the source of the music. Hùng overtakes Rock and Revy and approaches the door, knocking on it twice with his left palm.

The door swings open and Hùng steps in, with cigarette smoke and Vietnamese rock music seeping out. Rock and Revy step in and find Thinh sitting on a leather seat behind a wooden desk covered in papers, throwing a dart at a dartboard, dressed in a black V-neck t-shirt with shortened sleeves, dark blue stonewashed jeans, and beige tennis shoes. He says "Tôi thắng (I win)" and smirks at Loan, who is sitting behind him, dressed in a black, blue, and red buttoned flannel shirt, grey shorts, and black and yellow sneakers. Loan is holding a cigarette in his mouth, taking a drag, as Thinh holds one in his left hand. A small black radio plays "Nếu Mình Yêu Nhau" by Mai Lệ Huyền. As Hùng props the bag of ecstasy on the desk next to an ashtray, Loan groans and mutters "Tại sao tôi phải tiếp tục nhìn thấy chó cái ngu ngốc này (Why do I keep seeing this stupid bitch)?" Thinh shakes his head and says "Bây giờ là cách họ đối xử với bạn bè ở Huế (Is that how they treat their friends in Hue)?"

As Rock and Revy sit down on wooden chairs, Thinh turns to Hùng and says "Cảm ơn (Thank you). Bây giờ trở lại an ninh chạy (Now go back to running security)." Hùng nods in understanding and steps out, closing the door behind him. Thinh turns his attention to Rock and Revy and says "Looks like you got your hands on some really good looking ecstasy. Looks high quality. Loan, hãy thử một trong (try one). Cho tôi biết nó là như thế nào (Let me know how it is)."

Thinh opens a drawer and retrieves a switchblade. He unsheathes the blade and makes a cut along the clear plastic bag. He then reaches inside the bag and retrieves a sky blue ecstasy pill, handing it to Loan. Loan places his cigarette on the ashtray, glares uncomfortably at Revy, Rock, and then the pill, and places the pill in his mouth. He then sits down on a red plastic chair and waits.

Thinh nods and says "Alright. Loan will tell me how it goes. If it works, we can start talking money. If not, we can call it a day." He then smirks and adds "If he starts shoving his fingers down his throat because it's toxic, I'll stab you to death with a brass instrument." Thinh then crushes the cigarette onto the ashtray and chuckles to Rock's discomfort and Revy's boredom. She stares at the ashtray and asks "Can we smoke?" Thinh smirks, extends his arms out, and says "Sure, go ahead. Want a cigar? I got a couple of Dominican cigars. The small ones…kind of." Rock thinks for a second and says "Thank you. I'll have one." Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "Sure, thanks. Why not?"

Thinh reaches into another drawer and pulls out a case of 'Don Diego' 6.2 x 44 cigars. He opens the case, which is 75% depleted, and fishes out three of the cigars, placing them on the desk. He then fishes out a cigar cutter and a chrome, butane lighter with an ace of spades design from a jean pocket, placing them on the table. Thinh grabs one of the cigars, smells the body of the cigar, nods, and removes its cap. He then carefully cuts the round end of the same cigar, before doing the same to the other two cigars. Thinh then removes the caps on the other two cigars and motions the cigars at Rock and Revy. The two each grab a cigar as Thinh ignites his chrome lighter, lighting both Rock's and Revy's cigarettes. Thinh then holds his cigar in his left hand and lights it, afterwards placing it in his mouth. The three proceed to take slow drags on their cigars, mingling the harsh cigarette smell with a mild vanilla aroma.

Thinh nods to himself, exhales some cigar smoke, and asks "What you think? They ain't Cuban but damn they are good. Was vacationing in Curaçao and found them in a smoke shop." Rock frowns and nods to himself, saying "I like. It's relaxing." Revy tilts her head to the side and says "It's fine but I can't judge. I don't smoke these things." Thinh takes a small, calm drag of his cigar, exhales, and holds it in his hands, nodding at it. He looks at Rock and Revy and asks "What flavors you getting?" Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "I don't know…it's fucking tobacco. What am I supposed to taste?" Thinh slowly cracks up, his laughter intensifying as he points the burning tip of the cigar at Revy. Turning to Rock, he asks "How about you?" Rock grimaces and says "I'm sorry but I am not picking up anything really…I don't smoke these…well…at all."

Thinh smirks, takes another, calm drag of his cigar, and says "I like cigars. I really like them. I like trying them, collecting the boxes, tasting the flavors and looking at the way they hold together. They remind me when I'm doing business with someone, anyone really. You see, cigars have levels, and as you burn through it, you might catch on to different levels, or flavors as they come up. Sometimes you lose flavors, sometimes they intensify, and sometimes something happens that shits on the entire cigar. Like you cut it bad, or you leave it in a dry place and the oils fuck off, or you crush the butt of the cigar against an ashtray and the whole place suddenly smells like dogshit. And what I believe, is that there are two kinds of people on this round lump of shit called earth. Those who can identify the levels in everything and see them immediately by themselves, and those that can only see the tiny little chunk of ice from the iceberg that pokes barely over the surface, or the pyrite chunks right above the massive oil field."

As Rock and Revy glare silently at Thinh, Thinh smirks and presses a button on the radio, turning it off. Cigar in his right hand, Thinh says "Let's get the update on Loan over here." He turns around to find Loan smirking like an idiot and beginning to sweat. Thinh nods his head at Loan and asks "Làm thế nào là nó (How is it)?" Loan smiles widely and says "Đó là làm việc và sạch sẽ (It is working and clean). Tôi nghĩ rằng nó có caffeine trong nó (I think it has caffeine in it). Chỉ cần một chút caffeine và MDMA (Just a little caffeine and MDMA). Không có gì nhiều (Nothing more)." Thinh nods and says "Tốt. Bây giờ nhận ra. (Good. Now get out)." Loan nods and exits, smiling like a moron.

Thinh turns his attention to Rock and Revy, both of which have just taken drags on their cigars. Thinh says "I sent Loan out to wait off the effects of the pill. Your chemist or whoever gave you the pills, he or she was extremely lazy. The pills have caffeine in them." Rock holds his cigar in his right hand, smells the body of it, and smirks, saying "The pills have only a little caffeine, that is normal. Just clarifying." Revy jerks her head toward Rock and glares at him in confusion. Thinh smirks, slightly tightens his grip on his cigar, and says "Của bạn nắm bắt của ngôn ngữ Việt Nam là tốt hơn tôi nghĩ (Your grasp of the Vietnamese language is better than I thought)."

Rock smirks and stretches his neck, pretending to understand. Thinh lets out a chuckle and says "You looted the pills from the Van Thirith raid. I'm guessing he was selling them…or smuggling them…" "He was in the middle of a deal with some Australian drug smugglers. The ecstasy was their stuff," Rock quickly replies. Thinh contemplates taking a drag of his cigar, pauses, and decides not to. He asks "How many bags did they have?" Rock quickly answers "They had several bags. At least five of equal size. I only took one. Tuyết said over a microphone that Minh was dying, so I grabbed what I could." Thinh arcs his head back and says "So you are telling me that Minh, who was a reliable earner and hard to replace, bled to death because you wanted to get me these?" Thinh grabs the opened bag of ecstasy from the top of the bag and lifts it in the air, saying "These?! I'm flattered. I'm also fucking pissed off, BECAUSE NOW I HAVE TO FUCKING REPLACE HIM! BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Revy takes a drag of her cigar and replies "Oh piss me a river, alright?! Minh got fucking unlucky, it happens." Thinh stares at Revy incredulously, leans forward, and gets within a few inches of her face, saying "You think it's easy to hire people into my organization, right? You think that I just hire random bums off the street, putting my trust in them. So you are saying that my judgement is shit and that I'm a fucking retard, am I right? Are you calling me retarded?! Where the fuck did you get the balls to tell me that, huh?!" Rock swallows saliva and glares nervously, anticipating in horror at Revy's response. To both his and Thinh's surprise, she says "Please get out of my face. You're ruining my fucking cigar. And we were not told that there would be Australian smugglers. It complicated some shit. Minh died because of a heart attack, and no one could have seen that shit coming. Now, the fuck does Minh have to do with this deal?!"

Thinh returns to his seat, smirking. He says "I'm going to factor in the cost of hiring a replacement for Minh when I give a price." Revy laughs hysterically and grabs Rock's shoulder, extremely amused as Thinh and Rock exchange perplexed looks. After forcing herself to stop, Revy says "Hey buddy, I was buying into that 'pissed off boss' routine for a few seconds before it started to suck. Minh croaking had nothing to do with Rock grabbing the pills. We would have cut his leg off earlier had he not been indecisive about it. Eventually we gave him some painkillers and just did it. Then he died. Tough shit, it happens. Got a problem with that, fuckero, then take it up with Marty. But you won't, because you know he won't pay because Minh took a dirtnap." Thinh laughs and points his cigar at Revy. He looks at Rock and says "She, I like. You however, I'm still unsure. So let's get to this. How many pills?"

Rock takes a drag of his cigar and asks "Do you have a scale?" Thinh chuckles and shakes his head, saying "You don't even fucking know! Great salesmanship, hoang tưởng (hot shit). Yea, I have a fucking scale. I don't have weights though. It's electronic." Rock nods and says "It's okay, bring it out. That's actually more convenient." Thinh opens a drawer, reaches inside, and pulls out an electronic scale, placing it in on the desk. He turns it on, extends his hands, and says "Well?" Cigar in mouth, Rock pulls the scale to himself with his right hand, reaches into the bag with his left, pulls a single orange pill out, and places it on the scale. He then motions for paper and a pencil, to which Thinh obliges, his eyes following Rock's movements. With Thinh watching, Rock records the weight of the pill as 212 milligrams, places the pill back into the bag, and then weighs the entire bag. He records the entire package to weigh 272,155 milligrams. He then performs long division and rounds to a result of 1,283 pills. Rock nods to himself and says "I round down to 1,283 pills. Check the math if you don't believe me. Never knew those high school math and logic problems with the long stories would actually come in handy in this line of work."

Thinh points at the bag and says "The plastic weighs some." Rock nods and says "Okay, subtract 7 pills." Thinh glares incredulously at Rock and says "7?! Make it 18." Rock exhales a sigh of frustration and says "You already took one for Loan. Okay, fine…can we meet somewhere around the middle with 13 pills? Make it a nice, rounded number. 1,270 pills." Thinh pauses for a few seconds, and then says "I'm in agreement."

The three nod in agreement, with Thinh and Revy taking drags of their cigars as Hùng screams from beyond the room "Lấy địa ngục ra khỏi phòng (Get the hell out of the room)!" Rock mildly laughs as Thinh says "Loan sounds like he is now extremely annoying. The ecstasy seems to be working. I think we could set a nice price for $5 in U.S. currency per pill." Rock takes a drag of his cigar, exhales, and leans slightly forward, saying "I was thinking somewhere in the range of $12 per pill." Thinh smiles, extends his left hand, and lightly smacks Rock's right cheek, saying "You're amusing sometimes." Rock grinds his teeth and stretches his neck, trying to contain his anger, realizing that Thinh is trying to get a rise out of him. After a short pause, he says "I'm serious. You're going to sell the pills for $20 to $25 per pill anyway…in U.S. currency. $12 is a great deal, and you know it."

Thinh glares at Rock, bemused, and musters an extremely high pitched "Heh." After a pause, he says "You really think I can sell ecstasy for $20 a pop in Vietnam. You really flatter me. Next thing I know, you're going to ask if you could suck my dick." Revy smirks and lightly chuckles as Rock darts a dirty look at her, shaking his head. Ever so frustrated, he turns back to Thinh and says "I don't think you are going to sell these pills in Vietnam." Thinh glares blankly at Rock and asks "What makes you so sure about that?" Rock smirks, takes a drag of his cigar, exhales, and says "Because you are expecting a shipment from Marty and his friends. Which means that you can't sell ecstasy in confidence and discretion, as Van Thirith is dead, and no one else but you could effectively distribute narcotics in South Vietnam. Marty would know that you are using multiple sources, and that would at the least…upset him. And being that he is an extremely consistent supplier of narcotics, you can't afford to lose him as a business partner. So yes, just like I can't smack you for slapping my cheek, you can't sell ecstasy in Vietnam unless it is supplied by the 'Ndrangheta. So where else would you sell these pills?"

Rock takes another drag of his cigar, a third of the cigar already gone. He lets a huge chunk of ash fall onto the ashtray as he exhales. Staring at the cigar, he says "I've noticed this black pepper spice in the cigar. It's been lingering and getting stronger as I go along. At first I tasted tobacco, but now I'm getting this wood-like taste going, kind of like whisky from an oak barrel. I look forward to how the rest of this cigar goes." Revy arcs her head back and mumbles "Hmph." Thinh scratches his neck and says "Good catch. I'm not the biggest fan of that woody taste, but that black pepper flavor is addicting."

Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "I'm the opposite. I find the black pepper thing annoying, but the rest is a pleasure. You mentioned Cuban cigars before. For Americans, it's like a forbidden fruit, just dangling out of reach. But the risks to get them into their homes. Not that scary, but the risk exists. I wonder what the risk, police or otherwise, would be to smuggle this much ecstasy into Cambodia, or the Philippines, or China, or Singapore. 25 years in jail? 50? Hanging or a firing squad? Send it to Roanapur, and you piss off FIVE powerful drug lords, one of them being your supplier's partner. Your only hope is to send someone on a plane and out of Vietnam, and do you really trust them to properly conceal more than a thousand pills? You could also do it by boat, but I don't think you have any. I don't think you have a reason to, since you live in Ho Chi Minh City, and your front is a lumber mill business facilitated by a fleet of trucks. And I highly doubt any of your hired muscle has a boat designed to sneak past an armada of coast guards on such short notice, as Southeast Asia takes drug smuggling very, very seriously. And maybe smuggling into Singapore is possible…but I think I know a much better option that you will clearly take."

Thinh stares intently at Rock and asks "Oh yea? What? Who? Where?" Rock grins menacingly and says "San Francisco. U.S.A. Your friend with the 'specialty' target sheets, who has a friend in San Francisco. You are going to sell the pills to your 'friend', who will illegally ship these pills into San Francisco after he receives a 'special order'. That friend will sell it at American prices in underground parties where they will buy the pills for $20. For $25. Hell, maybe even for $40 if they are stupid enough. He might just tell them that the pill is laced in cocaine and they'll believe him. So yes, $12 is what I expect as you could easily sell the pills to your friend immediately and with little risk, and he would be the one holding the contraband. You won't even have to distribute them. Your friend makes a nice profit and exploits his target sheet 'smuggling' thing at zero added cost, both of us make money with zero effort, and we all go happy."

Thinh takes a drag of his cigar, exhales the smoke into Rock's face, and says "My friend is a legitimate businessman that just doesn't like the present government due to…historical reasons. Like me…the dislike of the government part I mean." Rock smiles, stands up, and reaches for the pills, saying "Alright, I know you are lying, and I think I am going to take my leave." Thinh suddenly draws a CZ-75 on Rock, stands up, and yells "Hold on! Don't fucking go!" Revy stands up and grabs the scale, saying "Shoot and I'll shove this up your ass sideways." Rock calmly stares down the barrel of the gun and says "You know you can't pull that trigger. You just can't. We already said so. I work for Dutch, and Dutch was hired by Marty, and we are still under contract, so you are just bluffing. 12 dollars per pill or I leave. You spent this entire negotiation trying to look like the daimyo in the castle, trying to make it look like you have the leverage. As I went through the levels in this deal, I figured out that you don't. I control this deal, I have dominion over my product, and I say $12 per pill or see ya."

Thinh's facial expression turns from mock anger to resigned defeat. He sits down, with Rock following suit. Thinh takes a drag of his cigar, exhales upward, and says "You're right. These pills are going to America, probably San Francisco. That is the safest and easiest approach to this, and I know my friend will agree to this. You're very sharp. There is one catch…I am planning on hiring Black Lagoon Company in the future. I have something that might come up, and I could use your services. It could tip my decision from 'maybe' to 'certainly' in terms of hiring Black Lagoon Company…if you knock the price down to 10 dollars per pill. Make it nice and even. You seem to like that sort of thing." Rock turns to Revy, who is still standing up with the scale in her hand. She places the scale back and sits down, nodding at Rock. Rock turns to Thinh, extends his right hand, and says "We have a deal." The two shake hands as Thinh yells at the top of his voice "Hùng! Hãy cho tôi mười hai nghìn bảy trăm đô la (Get me 12,700 dollars)! Mỹ (American)!"

"Tốt (Okay)!" Hùng yells back. Thinh pats the bag of ecstasy with his right hand and holds his cigar in his left, taking a drag from it. Exhaling, he says "Your money will get counted. Good hustle. Want a job? Both of you." "What?!" Rock and Revy simultaneously respond, both in shock. Thinh nods and says "Yeah. Work for me, after the Marty business. I can make you rich before you could blink. No more travel. What do you think?" Revy stares at Thinh with a blank look on her face as Rock musters out "I appreciate the offer, Thinh, but I like Black Lagoon Company. It lets us stay neutral. Nothing personal, Thinh. I respect you and the offer, but I can't take it."

Thinh digs his back into his seat and says "Too bad. I'll get someone else." Thinh patiently waits for the money to be brought up as Rock and Revy stare at each other in stunned silence.

Waiting outside the lumber mill, on a sidewalk, Rock and Revy take drags off their half-finished cigars. Blue luggage case in his left hand, Rock clutches tightly on it and says "$71,000 from the Indians at the apartment, somewhere around $10,000 from this exchange, after Dutch and Benny get their cut. The money from Takahashi sending us to the Thai gangsters…I think we have, together, from work that we did ourselves, outside standard Black Lagoon work, somewhere around 85 grand to spend."

"What are you thinking?" Revy inquires, pleased with herself as she eyes the luggage case. Rock smiles and says "Back in Japan, Fujiwara, my manager, would sometimes mention how boss Kageyama would take a weeklong vacation in Budapest. In Hotel Gellért. I checked the place online when I was bored…it was very nice. Expensive. I want to do, at least for one week this year, what Kageyama does every single year. We might not live to see 1999. We got a lot of money to burn. Let's actually spend it. That right there…what we just did…that felt good. Even getting that job offer from Thinh, which was nice and scary at the same time." Revy stretches her neck and says "Vacation in Europe eh? Never done that before. As long as I can find a good bar, I'm game. Maybe a casino. Sure Rocky boy. Sure." She smirks to herself and grabs Rock by the back of his head with her right hand, grasping onto his hair. In a quick, hungry motion, she brings his head towards hers as they smile and sink into a kiss.

A Lada Samara slowly drives up to them at a snail's pace, the windows rolled down and the radio off. Stopping in the middle of the road, Benny glares at the two locked in a kiss and yells "What the freaking fucking?! I…what the…what the fuck?!" Rock and Revy jerk in reaction and turn to Benny, who is glaring at the two with a stone-faced look, as if Rock and Revy were conjoined twins dressed as 19th century Indian Sepoys. Revy thinks quickly, and musters out "It ain't what it looks like, Benny." Benny raises his shoulders to his head, shivers, and says "Seeing is believing. Just get in. Get in. The car. Holy shit."

The two cram into the back of the Lada Samara, with Revy seated behind Benny and Rock right next to her, the luggage case between his legs. Benny sets the car into drive and hits the gas, calmly accelerating as he says "I heard of shitting where you eat, but this is putting an outhouse on a picnic table." Rock digs his face into his hands, cigar still held in the fingers of his left hand, muttering "Oh shit, shit, shit. Damn." Revy grinds her teeth and says "Don't you fucking breathe a word of this to Dutch. I will fucking fillet you, alright?" Benny raises his right hand slightly, as if to swear an oath, and says "Don't worry, I'll keep quiet. Just remember, we usually are in a 50 meter radius of each other. Dutch will find out eventually. Just saying." Revy harshly slams her right fist on top of Benny's right shoulder and says "You fucking better."

Benny winces and ignores Revy, as the three ride in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, Benny asks "When this all started?" "None of your fucking business," Revy irritably responds. "Just asking," Benny replies back, rolling down the rear windows, letting the cigar smoke seep out. Sticking her cigar out of the window and knocking out ash, Revy says "After I rescued Rock from Luca. That's all I'm saying." Benny nods and says "Interesting…what's with the cigars?"

Rock sighs and says "Thinh gave them to us, trying to get us comfortable for the deal. More like trying to patronize us. He tried to provoke us into doing something stupid, so he could use that to knock down the price…or confiscate the pills as 'restitution'. We got a good deal, I think. Thinh pretty much promised to hire us for a job in the near future. More importantly, 10 dollars per pill…12,700 dollars in total. We counted the money, it's correct." Benny smiles and says "So that means I get…um…well Dutch and I both get $1,270. So I get $635. Nice work! Making me feel like an upscale taxi driver. Ha, seriously, thank you. I bet Dutch is going to be happy."

"You want your pay now or at the hotel?" Rock asks, exhaling a sigh of exhaustion. Benny shakes his head, his eyes on the road, and says "Nah, at the hotel. Waving drugs out in the open would freak out the cops, but waving money around? They'll be at us like flies with hard-ons."

Faintly visible by the light of the moon, two men rest on lawn chairs on a beach, as nightfall shrouds the Vietnamese island of Phú Quốc. The man on the left, Martin Zappala, reaches into a beer cooler and pulls out a can of Hanoi beer. Dressed in a blue Hawaiian shirt with green and red rose patterns, beige shorts, and brown sandals, he turns to a Vietnamese man in his late 50s, dressed in a bluish green buttoned, collared shirt, dark brown cargo shorts, and black sandals, sporting a brand new gold watch. The Vietnamese man is clean shaven with slightly thick eyebrows, has a dimple on his right cheek, and has blackish grey short hair, the hair on the sides completely grey and combed back. Marty hands the can of beer over to the Vietnamese man and says "And a beer for Brigadier General of the military command of Kiên Giang Province, Hiếu Văn Phạm." Hiếu Văn Phạm laughs and says "If we weren't on a deserted beach, I would have punched you for saying my name out loud."

Zappala ignores Hiếu's comment and asks "What's the update on Trung Thanh Hoàng?" Hiếu quietly takes a sip of beer, thinks for a second, and says "The Van Thirith shooting has put the Tổng Cục Tình Báo in an extremely uncomfortable position. They have been immediately linked to the Van Thirith shootings, and international media outlets have taken offense to the fact that there were no survivors, and some media outlets have declared the raid a gross violation of human rights. Seems even gangster get some love. That is secondary to the fact that Van Thirith had political support in some sectors of the Politburo. The same Politburo that determines the Tổng Cục Tình Báo annual funding and 'other funding'. My sources in the military and the police have already determined that they have figured out the source, that source, and are converging to arrest Trung in his house in Đà Lạt. Unfortunately, the military commander of Lâm Đồng Province, a colonel, and the police commander of Đà Lạt…both are unwaveringly loyal to the letter of the law. Our money cannot reach them."

Zappala nods to himself and says "So I got to pay Black Lagoon Company for a second job. Ah fuck it…they refuse to do anymore rub-out jobs, so I got to make it look like a kidnapping or something. Shit, maybe that fuck will continue to be a useful dumbass. I almost feel sorry for the cocksucker." Hiếu takes a sip of beer and says "I have done my inquiries. Trung's scum of a brother appeared to have ordered Gessa's murder. The tapes you sent correlated with intelligence received concerning Trung's suspension after the theft of equipment from the Secret Police's equipment locker. Now that the equipment has been used in a serious crime, Trung will be facing arrest. Obviously, since he is, or was, the man responsible for keeping their equipment secured. I was getting a little unnerved that maybe you were getting rid of business partners…"

Zappala glares at Hiếu and says "Me? Nah. Gessa was a fucking freak but he did good work and never did wrong by me. Same with you…minus the whole freak shit of course. Things just worked out this way. You know, we had a guy sent to set stuff up before, in Southeast Asia. In Roanapur, like us. Name was Luca Cavalcanti. I used to work under him…the guy was kind of a mentor figure. Except…the guy was like a serial killer. He had this look about him. He was this kind of guy that went on in life, messing with anyone and anything that moved, just out of pure fucking spite. He was one of those types that keep pushing, pushing, pushing…just begging for a bullet through his head. The guy was a menace, like he was going for a 'suicide by society' thing. So we obliged and sent him to Roanapur expecting him to fuck over someone whose capabilities he don't quite understand, and he was a bit smarter than we gave him credit for, and we gave him a lot of credit. We wanted him to get clipped by one of the mafias in Roanapur, and then squeeze out a favorable restitution package when we would make a serious venture into the place. Well he, Luca, got his wish…those mercs that we hired. They have this guy…ex. Japanese bean counter or something, corporate type. Cubicles and shit. Really green. He put the bullet through Luca's head…that silver bullet that he was on his knees…begging for. Those mercs…heh."

Marty's demeanor suddenly changes from retrospective thoughtfulness to bemusement as he says "Those dumbfuck mercs think that Trung is some big shot commander in the secret police. They haven't the faintest idea that the tiny piece of fuck is, was, just some desk jockey keeping seats warm. I still don't know how that boat ended up where we were dumping the shit into the water, looking like it was going for us. Maybe Trung or his brother hired some muscle? Heard anything?"

Hiếu shakes his head and says "Nothing. If anything comes up, I'll notify you. Otherwise, it seems that Chù Thanh Hoàng will simply regret giving a government position to an incompetent relative. Ahh, the dangers of nepotism. He will lose political clout and we can breathe better. Hopefully when the next round of promotions and retirements comes along, I gain a star or two and that soon to be empty position as Deputy Commander Chief of Staff for the 9th region. I would become a theoretical second-in-command for all of the Mekong Delta, and I could use my political influence to keep the police away from our 'recycling plant'. If money will be like it was before, this would all be worth it."

Zappala sighs and says "I can't promise you that we will get as much shit this year. I mean those Canadian 'recycling' programs were kinda new, so the initial wave of shit has already been processed. Some companies got caught but no link to us…the Canadian cops just think that they dumped the trash in the wilderness. I think maybe half of what we made last year would be what we will get this year, which is still good stuff. I think it would then hover around this level of revenue and shit, while the fun lasts. All I know, is that when this particular current shit is over, Black Lagoon Company is going to be either facing a firing squad or facing up at the lids of their coffins."

A stack of USD $10 bills is flung across Revy's and Rock's motel room, hitting Rock in the face. He is dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and black gym shorts, laughing as he picks the stack up and tosses it playfully at Revy. Wearing a black bra and black track pants, she side-steps the stack of money and snickers, reaching into a small brown suitcase full of money. She tosses a few stacks of American currency at Rock as the two engage in an improvised game of dodge ball. The TV is on, showing a news broadcast on a TV channel called 'Singapore News Asia'. A clean shaven Tamil man with short black hair, dressed in a grey suit, announces in slightly Singaporean accented English "There has been a recent development in the Vũng Tàu dockyard massacre that claimed the lives of twenty four Vietnamese nationals. Two witnesses, that preferred to remain anonymous, claim that at least six armed gunmen assaulted the dockyard while dressed in military uniforms and balaclavas. Several international politicians and diplomats have condemned the shootings, with the Taiwanese Ambassador to the Solomon Islands decrying the massacre as 'a massive deprivation of human rights and due process' and both the Malaysian and Philippine Ambassadors to Thailand demanding an independent investigation. It is believed from visual data analyzed that the gunmen were agents of the Tổng Cục Tình Báo, more informally known as the Vietnamese Secret Police. The Tổng Cục Tình Báo, an intelligence agency rumored to have played a part in the Vietnamese-Cambodian War, has been occasionally accused of human rights violations. Breaking news update. This is Edward Chandran, signing off to Sylvia Tan, with a special broadcast from Vũng Tàu."

Rock and Revy cease their game of money dodge ball and turn their attention to the TV set, sitting on their bed. The TV broadcast cuts to a Chinese woman with slightly short dark brown hair, dressed in a bluish green raincoat and holding a black umbrella over her head. The reporter is broadcasting from outside Van Thirith's dockyard, the locale soaked in rainwater as the rain wanes. Behind the reporter, a mob of Vietnamese cops dressed in dark green uniforms block off the entrance to the dockyard, as a few figures move within the dockyard, an occasional flash of light from a camera appearing in the distance. The reporter nods in acknowledgement at her cameraman and says in Singaporean accented English "Thank you Edward. This is Sylvia Tan, with an update on the Vũng Tàu shootings, which have now been confirmed to be a police raid. When first asked about the shootings, the Vũng Tàu police department claimed that they had no knowledge of the raid and has sent several officers to investigate. After media silence for several hours, the police department have confirmed that this was indeed a police action, but have refused to confirm or deny that this was the actions of the Tổng Cục Tình Báo. Furthermore, it has been confirmed that the dockyard was owned by Cambodian born Vietnamese national, Van Thirith. Van Thirith was wanted by both the Thai and Cambodian governments on accusations of weapons trafficking, smuggling, and the murders of three Cambodian border patrol officers and a Thai police detective. Van Thirith was also once linked to a 1989 nail bomb attack on the headquarters of the Indochina Daily, the 2nd most circulated newspaper in Vietnam. The nail bomb attack appeared to have been directed at Chù Thanh Hoàng, the publisher and owner of the Indochina Daily, stemming from an article that featured Van Thirith and documented his criminal activities. The case was ultimately dropped. It is unknown if Van Thirith was one of the twenty four Vietnamese nationals killed in the attack…although it is believed that all of the victims were business associates of Van Thirith's criminal enterprise. Recently however, it has come to light that Australian investigators have arrived in Vũng Tàu as reports come in that four Australian nationals were also killed in the raid. The Vietnamese and Australian governments have promised full cooperation in a joint investigation..."

As Revy stares at a stack of $20 bills and says "Hey, I think I see some blood on this cash," Rock glares in utter shock and horror, his mouth wide open. "Revy…you might want to see this…" Rock musters out as Revy looks at the TV screen, leans forward, and yells "Oh fuck! No! Fuck no! No way…this is bullshit!" On the screen, a Punjabi man with thick combed back black hair tied into a pony tail and a trimmed beard connecting to his hair, wearing a light purple collared buttoned shirt, the top two buttons unfastened, worn blue jeans, and black boots tied with laces, sticks his tongue out, his mouth open, and flashes two middle fingers at the camera man. Victor Jaggi laughs and continues to make obscene gestures at the camera from behind the reporter as Revy shakes her head in rage and Rock stares in horror. Revy buries her head into her hands as Rock says "I…I think I'm going to be sick again."


	7. Sleeping With Crocodiles

Pacing inside Rock's and Revy's room, Dutch, dressed in a short sleeve beige sweater and forest green sweat pants, asks "How the hell did Jaggi survive? Twice?! Is he Rasputin or something?" Rock, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and black gym shorts, his hair disheveled, and Revy, dressed in her black tank top and corduroy shorts, each raise their shoulders and stare at each other. Rock says "I survived a bullet to the helmet with only a minor concussion. Revy told me that usually a bullet from a rifle at that range would cause my neck to snap. Luck, I would say." Dutch laughs and says "Rock, that bullet barely grazed your helmet." Rock extends his arms out and says "My point exactly." Benny, dressed in his Hawaiian shirt and beige slacks, says "Hey boss, if Jaggi was in the revenge business, we would have seen him a long time ago. That captain in Phuket probably told him where our headquarters is, so it's not like he has to hunt us. It just happened, that's all. I reckon this is going to be one of those lightning striking twice dilemmas." Rock exhales a sigh and says "There is one problem." Benny looks up at Rock and asks "Pardon?"

Arcing his head back, Rock says "Those party pills I sold to Thinh? There were at least five bags, and probably more stuffed on the boat. Plus the boat. Jaggi's boat. Jaggi's pills. We cost him somewhere around 60 grand, probably a lot more. So yes, I think we have a reason to be a little concerned." Revy scratches her neck and speaks out "Does Jaggi even give a shit about money? Last I remember, Jaggi and his friends did some fucked up shit with those hostages from Singapore. He could have ransomed for a lot of cash, but he went for something a bit more medieval." Rock snaps his fingers and says "If he doesn't care about money…why did he risk execution in smuggling drugs into Vietnam?" Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "For the kicks? I don't know…the guy is a fucking adrenaline junkie. After acting like an ass in front of the camera yesterday, he probably turned around and said 'Ooo! A tourist! Time to rape and mutilate her'. Or him. I don't even know."

Dutch sighs and says "Revy's right, but I still don't like it. At least he doesn't operate in Roanapur. I guess we could just keep this in the back of our heads. Will he show up again? We'll see." Revy laughs and says "Yeah we'll see. That fuck shows his face around me, I'll fucking decapitate him to make sure." Benny adjusts his glasses and says "You mean like the last two times he was around?" Revy smirks and says "Hey, I bat at a steady .333. Sometimes you face a dipshit with a sidearm fastball. It happens. If he's smart, he'll fuck off."

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door to the hallway. From behind the door, Martin Zappala yells "Open up! It's the Polish Pope!" Benny sighs and shakes his head, reaching for the door. Opening it, he lets Marty step inside, the latter dressed in his yellow 'Longshoreman of the Month' t-shirt, worn blue jeans, and grey boating shoes. Benny closes the door, turns to Marty, and says "You here to canonize us for our hard work?" Marty looks around, smiles, and says "Nah. I was looking for three wise men and a virgin. Know where I could find them?" "Fuck you, you clown!" Revy yells out as Dutch stretches his right arm. He says "You here to give us more work or to make fun?" Marty smirks and says "Who says we can't do both? Ha seriously, I'm just busting your balls here. All four of yous." Revy grins in annoyance and says "Don't push me."

Marty waves Revy off and reaches for the remote, saying "Gonna need some noise to mask it." As he prepares to turn on the TV, Rock yells "Hold on!" Benny, Dutch, and Marty all dart dirty, confused looks at Rock, as Revy grimaces and looks to the ground. Benny, Dutch, and Marty turn their heads at the TV as Marty turns the TV on. The three watch as a porno involving a Vietnamese man and a Vietnamese woman in a park appears. The three then turn their heads back at Rock and dart dirty, confused looks at him. Rock chuckles in embarrassment and says "Yeah, that was me. Sorry." Marty and Dutch then return their attention to the TV set as Benny stares at Rock and Revy, smirking to himself. His smirk dissipates and is replaced with a stern look as Revy glares viciously at him. Shrugging his shoulders, Marty raises the volume and says "Alright, huddle up. And no, this ain't no fucking circle jerk."

The five converge toward the front of the bed as Marty says "The Tổng Cục Whatever is zeroing in on our friend Trung Thanh Hoàng. They are pissed off over being humiliated on international news and they probably think that Trung spearheaded the operation in order to finally get even over that nail bombing. My military connect says that he lives in Đà Lạt and that some intel seeped in about the secret pigs coming there to arrest the little weasel. Now I'm thinking that we all could kidnap Trung and see what he knows. Maybe some dirt on his brother that we could blackmail him over. Some skeletons in his closet. Anything to get Chù Thanh Hoàng to fuck off and leave my business alone. I had a separate job planned out but this is too urgent and must be done first. Hell, who knows? If Trung is cooperative enough, and willing to spill the beans on…well anything, then we could all just leave and go home. 25 grand like I promised."

Dutch scratches his beard and says "If you knew where Trung lives in, why didn't you kidnap or had us kidnap him earlier?" Marty freezes in his tracks, mumbles for a few seconds, and lies "Look…he is a heavily trained agent. Like license to kill and uh…shit. You don't try to snatch someone like that just outright. I'm thinking that we wait for his friends to handcuff him, then take his friends out of the picture, and grab him while he can't move. Why ask? What's the fucking problem?" "Just curious Marty," Dutch replies, slightly suspicious. Marty stares at Dutch with a slight look of annoyance and says "When I pay you for your curiosity, then I'll ask for it. Got it?" Dutch smirks at Marty and says "Alright. Đà Lạt it is. You got a plan?"

Marty nods and says "Yeah. After we grab Trung, the cops will be after us. Sorry, can't help in that department. Anyway, when we grab the little piece of fuck, two of you are going to get out of the car we will be driving and make a little noise, just to throw the cops off. We'll then head east, while the heat will zero in on two of you. The two on diversion duty don't have to linger, just take a different route out of the city. Carjack a car or something and take the highway 27 route out of the city, through the east. Make sure no heat is on you. Drive for like an hour and a half until you reach a point where the highway splits into two directions. Stop over there, check the place around you…there will be some stores and cafes over there…it will be like a small town. Take the fork to the left, just one left, and then take the first right. Fourth house you see, stop over there. The two on diversion duty are going to hide there for a bit, until it's safe. Five of my people will be there to take the two of you to Cam Ranh. There, the seven will get picked up by your torpedo boat. That's where Benny comes in, of course. Makes sense?"

"Who are we going up against?" Rock inquires, a little nervous. Marty pauses for a second, and then says "At first, the secret police fucks that came to pick Trung up. We hit them hard and fast before they could react. After that, just the local police. They only got S&W 10s and TT-33 pistols, I think. Nothing you can't handle. Don't linger or they'll bring in some military or special response, and my military connect can't help. Also, there's an air base like 100 kilometers away from the city. I don't know if they got helicopters…but just saying." Rock shakes his head and says "Just two of us versus an entire city's police force? That is borderline suicidal. Unless we are getting the same equipment that we received for the assault on Van Thirith, the plan is crazy."

Marty smirks and says "Hey Larry Flynt, I thought you were supposed to be bad shit, not chicken shit." Dutch nudges Marty and says "Rock is right, the plan stinks. The cops will set up a dragnet and you can't just steal a car on short notice without risking a fight. You are going to have to send someone to pick Rock and Revy up from Đà Lạt. Otherwise, I'm not sending two of my team to die." Rock raises his eyebrow and says "So it is me and Revy?" Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "It sounded like you are volunteering. Unless you want you and me to be the distraction team." Rock glances at Revy, who has a blank look on her face, and then turns to his boss, saying "Doesn't matter to me." Dutch turns to Marty and says "Well?" Marty grimaces, grinds his teeth, and seethes "Fucking alright. I send a car to pick them up."

A woman on the TV set is brought to orgasm as Dutch shakes his head, stares at Rock, and says "We will discuss the rest of this in the car. We're heading out, so take a piss or whatever. 15 minutes."

Dressed in his dark green military clothes and dark green and red military cap, Hiếu Văn Phạm pulls a cigarette out of a pack of Craven A's and places the cigarette in his mouth, seated in a personal office, a window opened right behind him. As he pulls out a lighter from a pants pocket, a short-haired middle-aged Vietnamese woman dressed in dark green military attire enters his office, telephone in her right hand, and says, not making eye contact, "Bạn có một cuộc gọi điện thoại (You have a phone call)." Hiếu reaches for a telephone on his desk and lifts it off the receiver. He nods at his secretary and says "Cảm ơn bạn (Thank you)." The secretary nods and returns to her desk, placing her phone on the receiver. As she closes the door, Hiếu pulls the telephone to his right ear, places his cigarette on the desk, and says "Nói chuyện với tôi (Talk to me)."

Leaning against a glass phone booth in a gas station a couple of blocks south of highway QL 27, the phone booth plastered with photos of partially nude Vietnamese and Cambodian women alongside respective phone numbers, Zappala, dressed as he was earlier, says "It's me, Marty. Can you get on an outside line? I'm on the schedule. My number is…" Hiếu sighs and says "I have caller identification. I'll call back in 15 minutes." Hiếu and Marty both hang up their phones as Hiếu prepares to leave his office. Marty, letting a light breeze tickle his skin, turns his attention to a grey second generation Ford Explorer. Inside the Ford Explorer, Dutch, dressed as he was earlier aside from now wearing his flak jacket, Rock, dressed in his Jai Yen Yen shirt and beige shorts, and Revy, dressed as she was before, situate themselves on the back seat. A Western European looking man pumps gasoline into the car, the man appearing to be in his late 50s, with slightly graying black hair that flows just above the bottom of his neck, a thick moustache, and wrinkles on his forehead. The man is dressed in a blue and white horizontally stripped collared polo, denim jeans, and dark blue sneakers.

Marty yells towards the Ford Explorer, saying "Hey Lloyd! Get me a fucking beer!" A couple of Vietnamese patrons pumping gasoline into commercial vans give Marty dirty looks as the man in the polo sighs and turns to Dutch, saying in a slightly high pitched Toronto accent "Can you…uh…get him a beer? My hands are tied." Dutch sighs and says "Rock, Revy…I delegate." Revy sighs and says "Fucking fine, I'll give the dipshit his beer." She exits the car, steps toward the front side passenger seat, opens the car door, and retrieves a can of Hanoi beer from a case. She calmly strolls toward Marty and the phone booth. As she gets within a few meters of Marty, Revy pitches the can of beer at him. Marty flinches and fields the can of beer with his chest, his back slamming against the phone booth. He glares angrily at Revy and yells "What's the fucking matter?! You got some menstrual chunks tangled in your unshaven twat?!" Revy sarcastically smiles and yells "Take that can of beer, and jam it up your ass!"

Marty grinds his teeth in anger and turns his attention to his beer as Revy returns to the car. As he opens it, the beer flows onto his hands and drips to the floor. "Fucking baldracca (whore)!" Marty yells at a volume low enough so that Revy couldn't properly comprehend. Exhaling a deep breath, Marty sips on his beer and wipes his hands against his jeans.

After a few minutes of waiting, Marty flinches in surprise, as the pay phone rings. Marty grabs the phone off the receiver and says "Holy shit, that was quick." Hiếu, standing in a phone booth right next to a concrete wall covered in razor wire, says in a slightly annoyed tone "We have a phone booth right outside the base. Now what is so important?"

Marty takes a moment to collect his thoughts, takes a sip of beer, and says "I'm just giving you the heads up. We are going to take Trung pretty soon. Slight development but I decided to use two of my hired help from Thailand to create a diversion so me, one of the mercs from Thailand, and one of my guys could escape with the little shit. Would the air force base be a problem?" Hiếu scratches his neck and says "No…unless the diversion involves massive explosions. Actually…I have been contemplating this over a couple of cigarettes. The Tổng Cục Tình Báo are going to arrest Trung in a few hours. This is obvious. What is not obvious is whether or not the Tổng Cục Tình Báo believes that Trung was involved in the Van Thirith raid. Given Van Thirith's history with Trung's brother…it seems likely."

Marty raises an eyebrow and asks "Yea, that seems obvious to me as well. Where is this going?" Hiếu menacingly smirks and says "The Secret Police are looking for at least six shooters in the raid, two of them being female. One of the males being unusually tall and muscular. You have stated that you desire to have Black Lagoon Company eliminated once they are no longer useful, as you claimed that their fees are extremely high and that they are witnesses. Why don't we give them, the Secret Police, EXACTLY what they are looking for? As in, Trung and his five or six or seven mercenaries that were involved in the raid. As in…their corpses, one by one, two by two, however it is convenient for you."

Marty smiles and lightly chuckles to himself, saying "You clever fuck. That shit is just genius. I was hoping that they would get shot or arrested by the cops, by making their jobs extremely dangerous. You, on the other hand, found a way to justify whacking them. Hiếu, I'm in fucking awe of you. I could hand over Revy, Rock, Dutch, Benny, and Trung, and call it a day." Hiếu shakes his head and says "That still leaves you short by one female. Could you spare any of your other associates?" Marty flinches and yells "Hey! Hey, hey! It wasn't easily assembling a network. I'm not giving up good people, okay? The freelancers on the other hand? Fuck em. Five is good enough."

Hiếu taps his feet against the floor of the phone booth, pausing for several seconds. After a wait, he says "Very well. I am putting my faith in you. Hopefully your success would result in our personal peace and quiet." Marty arcs his head back and says "Yeah, tell me about it. I'll keep in touch. Take it easy." After a couple of seconds, Marty overhears the line go dead. He pulls out a phone card from his jean's pocket, places the phone back on its receiver, and immediately retrieves the phone. Dialing a series of numbers, he waits patiently for a dozen seconds.

"Xin chào (Hello)?" Tuyết speaks out, dressed in a grey tank top and sky blue track pants, her hair undone and flowing over her shoulders. She is speaking into a brownish red telephone, the phone attached to a cord, the cord attached to a receiver that is nailed to a grayish blue wall, situated in a sparsely furnished living room, right above a red sofa. Marty cringes as his boating shoes slightly stick to the beer stained floor of the phone booth. After lifting his right leg, he says "I'm at the nearby gas station. Meet me behind the coffee shop. Bring a car, bring two people along, our people, and make sure two of you are ready for batting practice."

Rock, Revy, Dutch, and Lloyd all seat themselves in an outdoor café built with tanned wood and straw, an awning right above the entrance saying in dark green lettering 'Việt Nam Tươi Cà Phê (Vietnam Fresh Coffee).' A coffee bar shaped like a square situates itself in the middle, flanked by stools, looking as if it would also serve alcohol. The four sit at a table at the edge of the café, pouring over menus. A set of napkins and a spoon rests on each edge of the table, with a ceramic container full of assorted sugar packets in the middle and two salt and pepper shakers flanking the ceramic container. Dutch folds his menu and says "Good thing it is in both Vietnamese and English." Lloyd widens his eyes, jitters slightly, and nods in agreement, saying "Yeah."

Revy eyes Lloyd and asks "The hell's up with you?" Lloyd cracks his fingers and says "Running on three hours of sleep. I need some caffeine, now." Dutch smirks and says "You sure look like you can use a can of pop." Lloyd raises an eyebrow and asks "Are you from Michigan?" Dutch glares at Lloyd for a few second, contemplates his answer, and lies "No, I'm from Minnesota." "Minneapolis?" Lloyd inquires, slightly animated. Dutch nods and says "Yeah. Caught that from me saying pop instead of soda?" Lloyd nods and says "It's a Canadian thing too. Least in Toronto." Revy snickers to herself and mutters under her breath "Pop…heh. Pop…haha."

A Thai waiter approaches the table and says in mildly Thai-accented English "What would you like to get?" Dutch blurts out "I'll have a cup of green tea and a slice of cheesecake." Rock smirks and says "Did not expect that." Scratching his neck, Dutch adjusts his sunglasses and says "I try to avoid caffeine when I can. It makes a mess out of my nerves." Holding a pad of paper in his hands, the Thai waiter motions his eyes toward Revy and waits for her response. Taking her cue, Revy reads off her menu "I'll get the…uh...Vietnamese Sweetened Ice Coffee and a bagel with cream cheese." Rock raises his menu and places his right index finger on it. Following it along a menu item, he gingerly says "French Vanilla latte. Put in a little nutmeg. That's it." Writing down Rock's order, the Thai man turns to Lloyd and stares at him. Lloyd gathers his thoughts, his hands slightly shaking, and asks "Can I get two double espressos? Yes, two. Separate." The Thai man's eyes light up as he writes down "Two…double espressos. Not bad. You all here on vacation?"

Smiling to himself, Rock blurts out "Yea. Here for sightseeing." The waiter pockets the pad of paper and asks "Where you all from?" Lloyd rubs his hands together and says "We are expatriates working and living in Thailand. Decided to check out the greater neighborhood of Southeast Asia." The Thai man's eyes light up as he says "Oh really?! I'm an expatriate from Thailand living here in Vietnam. Where in Thailand do you all work?" Dutch quickly answers "We live in Pattaya. Have been for several years. We have some business going there." The waiter nods to himself and says "Pretty cool. I visited Pattaya City…love the beach there. Personally, I'm from South Thailand. Surat Thani. Anyway, I have to get to work getting your orders started. Really cool seeing someone from my country, though."

As the waiter departs, Lloyd turns left to Rock and asks "Where the fuck is Roanapur again? We're in Pattaya or what?" Rock yawns and looks to his left to Revy, asking "Roanapur is in Trat, right? Trat Province?" Revy and Dutch nod in agreement as Revy says "Yea, Trat. Seriously, you've been living with us for more than two fucking years, and you can't name one Thai city outside of Roanapur, Bangkok, and Phuket." Rock smirks and asks "Do you want to play the geography game again?" Revy leans her head forward, smirks at Rock, and, barely holding her laughter, says "Eat a dick." Dutch and Lloyd crack up, with Lloyd saying "So…hehe…you from the States, like your friends here, I'm guessing. Don't sound like it, though." Rock scratches his nose and says "English as a second language. Russian as a third. Spanish was fourth but it went to crap over time. I'm Tokyo, born and raised."

At the sound of hearing Tokyo, Lloyd starts snickering. Confused, Rock asks "What is so funny?" Still snickering, Lloyd mutters "Oh god…Benny 'Dragon Bananas' Orlandi…" Revy raises an eyebrow and asks "Who?" Lloyd restrains his snickering and says "Nobody…ask Marty if you want. I ain't saying shit."

Standing in front of an eighth generation red Toyota Corolla, Zappala converses with Tuyết, dressed as she was earlier, only with a dark blue buttoned, collared shirt over her tank top, with an unnamed 40-something year-old Vietnamese man, clean shaven with thick black hair and a round, chubby face, dressed in a t-shirt with a purple and red design of a crane and a pond, black sandals, and grey sweatpants, and with an unnamed white 30-something Western European looking man, clean shaven with paper thin black hair, two chunks on both ends of his forehead missing hair, creating a square patch of hair connecting to the rest of his hair, dressed in a horrendous yellow, green, black, and brown horizontally stripped shirt, brown cargo pants, and grey leather sandals. Zappala turns to the Vietnamese man and the Western European man and says "Trí, Jake, one of you has got to head back to the house. The other gets the cash bonus. That's how it is."

Jake points at Trí and, looking at Marty, says in a Toronto accent "Look, Trí Vũ here forgot to come here with any chrome, and I think since I made the fucking initiative…" Trí Vũ fumes and leans against the Toyota, yelling in thick Vietnamese-accented English "You just told me to come along! You didn't say bring anything, you dick!" Jake extends his arms out and yells "Woah, what's with the fucking language?!" Trí Vũ points his right index finger at Jake and says "Shut up, Branca. You knew what was going on and you made an idiot out of me!" "SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! FOR THE LOVE OF THE POLACK IN THE VATICAN, SHUT THE FUCKING FUCK UP! Jesus! Alright…Branca! You go with Tuyết," Marty yells out, putting emphasis on Jake Branca's name, as a couple of Vietnamese locals stare at Marty. "Trí, you go back to the house. Say hi to Ngoc and Vibol, and tell them to be fucking ready. Remember, Tuyết…don't jump in to help until either 30 minutes have passed after shit kicks off…or it seems like they spotted you. I'm trying to get these cocksucking freelancers out of the picture…all silver screen like, very pretty and cinematic. Trouble is, I'm going to need at least one of them for a final job, so I can't just have them all clipped. Got to dole it out. Don't whack them in the city…but just…if a goddamn truck is barreling down on them, let it. Now, Tuyết, listen here. This is very fucking important. Like I said before, only two of the fucks from Black Lagoon are going to be staying in the city, basically to make a lot of noise as me, Lloyd, and the other merc runs off with the paperboy's brother. If those two fucks stay alive, they will be brought to the nearby safe house. I expect a call, no specifics, the moment they are in the safe house. I will then give a call, again, no specifics, giving the go ahead. Kill the two jackoffs but don't chop them up. Put them in the car. Dump them someplace where they will get found. Don't shoot them in the head…make it look like they got shot by police and bled out on the way to the safe house. You know what I mean. Make it believable, like your actually trying to sell it."

Jake Branca nods and says "Alright boss, it's done. Hey Trí, after this shit is over, I'll buy you a beer." Trí waves Jake off and starts walking away, saying "Yeah, you bastard. One beer somehow equals 3 thousand dollars, bah whatever." As he walks off, Marty turns to Tuyết and says "Alright Tuyết, after Gessa got his watermark, you've been in charge of business in Vietnam. This whole operation, I'm delegating to you. Keep in touch, treat this job like a baby, handle with care and shit. Anything crazy happens, I better know about it. Alright, I got to tend to the freelancers. Remember, grey Ford Explorer. Lloyd, my 'cousin-in-law', is driving."

Passing through a mildly dilapidated, rain soaked residential neighborhood on the right, and a wall of trees on the left, the Ford Explorer cruises along QL 20, having just passed a fork in the road. Yawning, Zappala nudges Lloyd and says "Keep on it, it's gonna snake around and shit. Just follow till you get close to downtown. He lives in a house right before the city gets crowded. Lives next to uhh…you know…those fucking Chinese temples. What the fuck they called? Taos? Pagodas? Padogas? Ahh fuck, you know what I mean."

As Lloyd nods in understanding, Rock, seated with Dutch on the left and Revy on the right, asks "When we get there…what do we do?" Zappala cracks open a beer and says "Alright, the cops aren't supposed to arrest him yet. We going to wait for an hour till they pick him up. Then we stop them at a red light, take out the driver, clean out the rest of the fucks, and then grab the jackoff. We're gonna stuff him in the back. Two of yous are going to be running at a completely opposite direction. Do something, shoot in the air…rob a store, anything to make the cops focus on you. I mean, we are going to take him in broad daylight, so someone will call the cops. Just be annoying…a car will pick up the trail and pull you out."

Dutch eyes Zappala suspiciously and asks "And what if the backup does not pick up the trail?" Sighing, Zappala takes a sip of beer, mulls to himself for a bit, and says "Alright, you got my number. You need help immediately or something, you give me a call, just say 'now' or something, nothing specific. Tell me where you are without getting into details like what street it is. Just say a landmark or something, or a restaurant that you see, my friends will know where." Dutch raises an eyebrow and says "Your friends must be locals…" Zappala yawns and lies "Yep."

Four car lengths behind the Explorer, a red Toyota Corolla calmly follows it, driven by Tuyết, with Jake riding shotgun. With the radio playing "Một Trăm Phần Trăm" by Hùng Cường, Tuyết glares sternly at the Ford Explorer and asks "What guns you have with you?" Jake shrugs his shoulders and says "A Beretta 92 on me and a Ruger 10/22 in the trunk, 25 round box magazine." Tuyết mumbles out in confusion "Ruger 10…never heard of it." Jake arcs his head back and says "It's a fucking hunting rifle alright? The kind you use to shoot at four-legged animals." Tuyết cracks up in laughter and shakes her head, incredulously saying "A hunting rifle? A…hunting rifle? Well since our job is to let those two die, I suppose you have the right idea." Jake rolls his eyes and forces a smile, saying "Yeah…a hunting rifle. Look, I shoot deer alright? I know what I'm doing." Responding in an annoyed tone, Tuyết mildly yells "I fought in three wars since I was 14. Listen to me…I know what I'm doing. Unless you want to hide in a grassy knoll, that rifle is useless here."

Jake's eyes widen as he says "Three wars…holy shit. That...that I can respect." Tuyết sighs deeply and says "I just want this over with. I just want to collect my money and not think about this violence anymore. I had enough of it." Jake solemnly nods and says "I can see that. You fought in the Civil War right? Against the French?" Tuyết bursts out into laughter and says "My parents weren't even dating when the French were removed from Vietnam. You really have to think before you speak next time." Jake extends his hands and says "Hey! I am just saying."

Tuyết forces a smile and says "Alright. Yeah, the Civil War. After that, I fought during the Vietnamese-Cambodian war, got shot in the face from an AK-47, and had my cheek ripped out by the bullet, in 1979. After recuperating, I went to get plastic surgery on my face, to repair my cheek. I got surgery in my home city, where my parents lived, in Lạng Sơn. Which was very close to the Chinese border. While I was recuperating in the clinic, a couple hundred thousand Chinese soldiers invaded, all armed with assault rifles, all in this single formation, where the front would expand from one side of the road to the other, and the rear would go on for what I thought was miles."

Eyes on the Ford Explorer, her forced smile turns into a thousand yard stare as she continues "They would all shoot at anything that moves, while marching forward. If one of their soldiers died, another immediately took that soldier's place. It was like a typhoon of bullets ripped through my city. I remember my surgeon crawling on the floor, he got shot in the leg…I ran to my house to find my parents killed in the crossfire. I then caught up with some of the remaining friendly military and joined the defense. After fleeing the city with the remnants of the army, I joined up with a larger force. We set up bamboo spikes along the marshes…bobby traps…things that I used to do when I fought as a teenager during the Civil War. None of the regular divisions that were in Hanoi came to help us…they were all held to protect the nation's capital at any cost. I was one of the most senior soldiers there, actually…I didn't know military strategy…though. I knew how to set up traps, so at least I was able to help in that. Later on, some of the army that was already committed actually went behind Chinese lines and attacked artillery IN China. At the time, I was ready to kill the person next to me in order to join that assault, but I was held back for the defense of the provinces. We lured the Chinese into the nearby province capitals while they were barely guarded, and then came at them from the hills. We massacred them…I killed more people there then in the previous two wars combined. So much blood…the Chinese pretended that they won, retreated, and decided to destroy the already captured cities on the way back to their country. I lost everything…my family, my home…I resettled in Nha Trang and started from new. At the time, I was too consumed with anger at everything…but now…I just want to get this over with and so it can come back to normal."

Jake Branca solemnly nods and says "That is heavy shit. The fuck the Chinese did that though? Fuck this place up?" Tuyết forces a smirk and says "The Chinese were close friends with Pol Pot and Cambodia. That second war? We were sent there to remove him from power, because between his genocide of his own people, he found some time to attack Vietnamese villages. China assaulted Vietnam to force us out of Cambodia. And I also think it was because we were close friends with the Soviet Union, and China wanted to show off how strong it was to the Soviet Union."

Jake shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know nothing about that…you're the history buff here." He mutters under his breath, quietly enough for Tuyết not to hear "So this is what that uhh…PPST head thing looks like."

After a long pause, Tuyết asks "So…you and Ngoc?" Jake glares at Tuyết and says "I don't know what you talking about." Tuyết frowns and glances at her rear view mirror, saying "Okay. Just a warning, do not go into details with her about what China did to us. She is a very patriotic about her country and would not shut up about it, and she doesn't exactly care much for the Chinese. It is very annoying at times." Jake shrugs his shoulders and says "Never caught that…don't really give a shit bout it. I did always wonder where those anti-China protests came from though. Like the shit I sometimes read in the news here. Now I get it, that, plus those island things right?"

Tuyết darts a glance at Jake and says "Yes, there was a small fight over one of the islands not that long ago. People died. I was expecting a repeat of 1979. Thankfully it did not happen. I was beginning to feel like an Israeli." Jake muffles a laugh and says "Well we came a long way from talking about my hunting rifle." Tuyết scratches her nose and says "Yes we did."

Rolling his window down in the Ford Explorer, Dutch sticks his head out and glances at the Toyota Corolla. He tosses a cigarette out of the window and pulls his head back in. Reaching toward Lloyd, he taps on his right shoulder and says "Spotted a red Toyota near us. It's been following us for a while. Is that the backup or are we being followed by plainclothes cops?" Highly caffeinated, Lloyd nervously twitches and says "Wwwhat?" Realizing that his plan has nearly fallen apart, Zappala sighs and says "Yeah, that is the backup." "Who is in it?" Dutch inquires, pressing Zappala further. Zappala blinks and says "Tuyết and one of our guys from Canada. Jake Branca."

Rock nods and says "Alright, so we will look out for them. What is the model of the car?" "Red Toyota Corolla," Marty replies, as Revy and Dutch nod in approval. Revy glances at Lloyd and blurts out "What about Mr. Multiple Sclerosis here? He gonna help?" Marty laughs at the nickname that Revy gave Lloyd and says "That was a good one. You're still a fuck to me, but that was a good one." Revy violently grins and gives Marty the finger. Ignoring her gesture, Marty says "Lloyd here is my cousin. He ain't a Zappala…if he was, I'd be concerned that my sister was fucking a long lost brother…some hardcore incest. None of that…we ain't Sicilians." Lloyd bursts out into hysterical laughter as his driving becomes slightly erratic. Revy yells out "Calm the fuck down!" Stabilizing the car, Lloyd says "Sorry, really need to get some sleep though. After this job, I'm going to grab some whisky and drink myself into some sweet….SWEET…dreams."

Smiling, Marty says "If he was my sister's son, then given how stupid he is, I'd also be thinking there was incest involved. I kid, I kid. Lloyd is my sister's husband's brother. Lloyd Vitelli, more evidence of my sister's shit taste. Hey, it's a joke Lloyd, a 'haha'. Take it easy." Lloyd jerks his head toward the front, his eyes scanning the road like an iguana. Shaking his head, Marty says "Seriously, calm down with the fucking all nighters…you are asking for a heart attack. Which my sister will blame on me."

Suddenly, Rock reaches over and taps Marty on his left shoulder, asking "Who is…Dragon Orlandi?" Lloyd cracks up in nerve wracked laughter as Marty says "Lloyd told you right? Alright, since I'm in a good mood, and since this is kinda funny…Benjamin 'Dragon Bananas' Orlandi is one of our guys that is currently in Thailand, not Vietnam. He is…unique. He is an American from Buffalo who, for some reason, ran off to South Korea and lived there for five years before coming back when he couldn't get a job. He is a 2nd degree black belt in Taekwondo, is obsessed with Hong Kong movies, collects Chinese and Korean swords and those folding stick things, and has a rack full of those comics from Japan."

Rock glares at Marty with a shocked look on his face, before breaking up into laughter, saying "Wow, an otaku mobster…I have seen it all." Marty snaps his fingers on his left hand and says "Hey by the way, Benny Orlandi is also our…janitor. He once chopped up a mark and cooked him into soups and stews, then fed him to the homeless. Back in Montreal. So don't mention this conversation to him, because I will deny it. And then he will kill you." Rock glares at Zappala, nervously smiles, and says "I…see." Amused with himself, Zappala continues, saying "Yea, Dragon Bananas is fucking nuts, but he ain't Luca. And we ain't ever going to send him out to pasture." Revy blinks and immediately processes the bombshell of information, saying "W…w…wait a minute. So you wouldn't put Orlandi out to pasture. Which means…" Nervously trying to cover up his slip of tongue, Zappala wipes sweat off his forehead and says "Means nothing…just saying."

Rock folds his hands on his lap, steals a glance at Revy, and asks "Are you telling us that Mr. Cavalcanti was sent to Roanapur in order to die?" Zappala snarls at Rock, gesturing him to shut up. Revy grasps onto Zappala's right shoulder and tightly squeezes on it, a pissed off look on her face, saying "Cat's out the bag. Now what the hell went on over here with Luca?" Zappala immediately yells "Get your fucking hands off me! Alright! Luca was sent to set things up! And to get the fuck as far away from Vancouver as possible! And if he ate a gun, so fucking what?! And if a few undesirables in the organization ate a few bullets as well, so what?! The guy was a scumbucket! You just made it convenient for us! I ain't making a fucking stink about it, so lay the fuck off!"

Satisfied with her answer, Revy releases her grasp and returns to the car sofa, closing her eyes, trying to block out her thoughts. Digging into the car sofa as well, Rock closes his eyes and exhales a deep breath, simultaneously digesting Marty's revelation and anticipating the carnage that is about to ensue.

Standing on a sidewalk in Roanapur, on Buran Street, Balalaika, dressed in her red business suit, slams shut a side door on a silver colored sedan. Facing the rebuilt Caribbean Bar, the same bar that the Romanian Twins shot to pieces, Balalaika approaches the front door, flanked by Boris, who is dressed in his usual grayish green trenchcoat attire, and Baretsky, who is dressed in a dark brown dress shirt tucked into dark green dress pants, held up by a black belt. The three approach and enter the bar, with Baretsky taking the lead. He turns right toward the counter and greets a Cambodian waiter, saying "Hey Chan. They are in the back?" The Cambodian waiter nods, and then nervous smiles at Balalaika and Boris as they enter the bar.

As Baretsky walks toward the rear of the bar, Balalaika turns to Chan and says "I want that drink that you made me last time. The Irish Coffee." Chan nods and anxiously says "Okay. Okay." Boris slightly raises his right hand and says "I want a dark beer. Don't care what label. Use your discretion." Chan blinks several times and nods, his hands shaking.

The three walk down a staircase into a basement, the basement lit by a few hanging light bulbs. Inside, seated on metal folding chairs around a round table, Jodorovski, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and brown cargo shorts, Polansky, dressed in blue jeans and a red tracksuit top that says "CCCP" in yellow letters on the front, a shirtless clean shaven forty-something year-old Eastern European man with short combed forward blonde hair, wearing dark green cargo shorts, and a short, beer-bellied, Kyrgyz man with short graying black hair, east Asian facial features, a small dent in his forehead, and a cleft chin, in his early sixties, shirtless and wearing dark blue jeans and a white taqiyah hat, all play a round of poker on the table. The poker game is played with poker chips of various colors.

The unnamed Eastern European man is covered in Russian prison tattoos, with a set of five Orthodox Church towers tattooed on his chest, two sixteen point stars tattooed on the front of his shoulders, a fedora wearing head of a cat tattooed on his left arm, a bull's head on his right arm, and a massive, intricate back tattoo of the Virgin Mary holding a baby Jesus. The Kyrgyz man is also tattooed, sporting a huge tattoo of a taqiyah wearing skeleton on the right side of his chest, the skeleton's left hand holding a barbed wire noose over the head of Joseph Stalin, the head of Joseph Stalin tattooed slightly to the left of where the Kyrgyz man's heart is, partially overlapping it. The head of Stalin is sporting horns and a snake's tongue, and was drawn as if it was torn right off the body, with the bloody spine snaking down the Kyrgyz's man's chest. The blood from the spine crudely spells out the phrase in capitalized Russian letters "POPROBUTEI STRILAYHT (TRY AND SHOOT)." In the space in the middle of the man's chest, between the skeleton and the torn off head of Joseph Stalin, the tattoo design features, vertically drawn in capitalized Russian letters, "MENYA ISPRAVEHT RAZSTREHL (THE FIRING SQUAD WILL REFORM ME)." On his back is a massive tattoo design of the skeleton of a Mongol warrior on the bow of a dhow boat, holding a Mongolian scimitar in the air, the scimitar pointing upwards at a crescent moon and four eight point stars.

Jodorovski also sports a few tattoos, including a pair of sixteen point stars on the front of his shoulders, a tattoo of a horned devil with his eyes gouged out, wearing a USSR police hat, on his right arm, sandwiched between the Russians words "Smehrt Musorov (Death to Garbage-men), and a tattoo on his left arm of a fedora wearing cat with a chain in its mouth, the chain connecting to the tip of a large Star of David, with the words under it, in Russian letters "Boyitis, kommunisti antisemitskiye. Boyitis. (Be afraid, anti-Semitic communists. Be afraid)."

Sitting on a chair in front of a desk, a fan blowing on her, a slightly overweight Chinese woman with shoulder length black hair and gold earrings, dressed in a purple t-shirt and dark green shorts, inscribes numbers into an accounting ledger. A carousel type CD player currently plays "Za Teh Kto V Moreh (For Those That Are In The Sea)" by Russian Rock band Mashina Vremeni, as the four poker players turn around and greet Balalaika, Boris, and Baretsky. Jodorovski approaches Baretsky, Boris, and Balalaika, and addresses them cheerfully in that order "Pasha! Borya! Sofiya! Privet (Hello)! Ya gatov obnalichit moieh fishkeh (I'm ready to cash in my chips)." Pavel Baretsky smiles and gives Jodorovski a firm hug, with Boris and Balalaika following suit. Polansky and the unnamed Eastern European man follow Jodorovski's lead and greet the new guests to the party. As Jodorovski collects his chips and turns to the Chinese accountant, Boris approaches Jodorovski and asks "Nu Vadim, ti uverehn (Well Vadim, are you sure)?" Vadim Jodorovski nods and says "Da, poigraih. Ya ustal (Yes, go play. I'm tired)."

Balalaika turns to Polansky and says "Ruslan! Ti znaesh gde Vaynshteyn yect (Ruslan! You know where Vaynshteyn is)?" Ruslan Polansky shrugs his shoulders and replies "Ubeih, ni znayu. On esho na rahboteh. Ti znayish. Vohn tam (Kill me, I don't know. He is still on the job. You know. Over there)." Pavel Baretsky nods at the unnamed Eastern European man and says "Ey, Oleg! Oleg Tatarinov! Povezlo c barom, nu da (Got fortunate with the bar, well yes)? Kak biznes (How's business)?" Oleg points to Balalaika and says "U menya yect konveihrt (I have the envelope). Biznes (Business)? Yebnuti dengi, eta kak biznes (Fucking crazy money, that is how business is). Pizdets, piva y karti (Pussyshit, beer and cards)? Shikarnih operatzeh (Classy operation)! Spasiba Balalaika, za vseh (Thanks Balalaika, for everything)." Oleg Tatarinov pulls a stuffed envelope out of a back pocket and hands it to Balalaika, who hands the envelope to Boris. As Boris pockets the envelope, Jodorovski motions at the Chinese accountant and says "Hey Sun, cash me out."

Balalaika cracks her knuckles and slightly frowns, saying "Menshov upravyal barom, kak chesi (Menshov ran the bar, like a clock). Ni zabihvaiti ob etom (Don't forget about that)." Oleg smiles nervously and says "Ni volnuisa (Don't worry)." After cashing Jodorovski out, Sun snaps her fingers and says in Thai accented English "Hey Ms. Balalaika. You remember that thing you wanted done about those excise taxes? I have been going over the tax code. I have an idea on how we could fool the tax collectors." Balalaika nods at Sun and says "Good, tell me everything later. Meet me at the company office tonight."

Sweating from the humidity in the room, Boris pulls on his shirt collar and asks "Pachimu zdes tak dushna (Why is it so humid here)?" The Kyrgyz man laughs and says in Kyrgyz-accented Russian "Potomu shto ti noshis pidzhak (Because you are wearing a jacket)!" Balalaika lets out a laugh and says "Zdraste (Hello). Ti dolzhin biht Rustam Asakeyev (You must be Rustam Asakeyev)." Rustam climbs off his chair and approaches Balalaika, firmly shaking her hand. He asks "A ti…Sofiya, da (And you…Sofiya, yes)?" Balalaika nods and says with hint of sarcasm "Sofiya Pavlovena. Nu ti clasna ahdeht (Well you are classily dressed)." Rustam laughs and says "Mi vseh nahodimsa v Thailandeh. Blayt, zdes zima ni budeht (We are currently in Thailand. Fuck, here there will be no wenter)."

Balalaika smiles and sits down, saying "Horosho skazahl (Well said)." She snaps her fingers at Jodorovski, fishing out five $100 bills from a suit pocket. "Pihdsot dolorov, dai mne fishkeh (Five hundred dollars, give me chips)." Polansky glances at Boris, and after a second, takes his queue, collecting his chips off the table. Ruslan nods at Boris, the latter taking his seat, draping his trenchcoat over it. As Ruslan prepares to cash in his chips, Boris places ten $100 bills on Ruslan's pile of chips, five of his, and five of Balalaika's. Entering the poker room, Chan carries a plate with a glass of Irish Coffee and a bottle of Asahi Black Japanese beer. He places them on the table as Sun, in the middle of exchanging money for Polansky's chips, blurts out "I'll have a margarita, Chan. Use your imagination." Rustam snaps his fingers and says in a thick Russian-Kyrgyz accent "One beer. One." Chan anxiously smiles and asks "Which one?" Rustam points at Boris' beer and says "That."

As Chan hurries out of the room and as Polansky props two sets of $500 valued poker chips in front of Boris and Balalaika, Vadim and Pavel converse between themselves near the CD player. Ruslan pulls out a pack of cigarettes and follows Chan up the stairs, as Boris snaps the bottle cap off his beer using the edge of the table. Taking a sip of the beer, he scans Rustam's tattoos and says "Razumno sdelalih tatyurovku (Tattoo is cleverly done). V kakom lagehri (In which camp)?" Rustam sighs and says "Kengir. E patom Astrakhan. Posle byntah (Kengir. And then Astrakhan. After the riot)." Boris and Oleg widen their eyes, as Balalaika asks "V Kengir? Ti prinimahl uchasteh v vostaneih (In Kengir? You were involved in the revolt)?" Rustam beams a ray of pride and says "Da. Oni hoteli menya ubiht. Noh ya bihl slishkom popularnim (Yes. They wanted to kill me. But I was too popular)." Rustam proceeds to beat on the severed head of Stalin for added emphasis. Listening in on the conversation, Jodorovski remarks "Nastoyashi vor v zakone (A true thief in law). Orihginahlni (Original)."

Rustam glares at Vadim and shakes his head in amusement, saying "Ya videl tvayi tatyurovki (I saw your tattoos). Oni dermo. Kakoy lagehr ti zihl v, a (They are crap. Which camp you lived in, ay)? Obyisniti mneh, kakoy tipa yoponi vor ti mozhis biht yesli ti bihl soldat gosudarstvinhi (Explain to me, what type of fucking thief can you be if you were a soldier of the state)?" Vadim blankly says "Ya nehbil v guhlageh (I wasn't in a gulag). Ya, Oleg, y Borya zdes bilih v turmeh v Petrozavodske (Me, Oleg, and Boris here were in prison in Petrozavodsk)." Rustam folds his hands and asks "V Karelia (In Karelia)? Shto vi delalih v Karelia (What did you all do in Karelia)?" Vadim blankly stares and says "Ograbilih arsenahl. Iz militszi (Robbed an arsenal. From the police)." Boris interrupts and says "Vadim y ya. Ni Oleg. Zastrilil dvuh musorov (Vadim and me. Not Oleg. Shot dead two pigs)." Vadim smirks at Rustam and adds "Obah (Each). Musora pochti poslalih nas v Selikamski (The pigs almost sent us to Solikamsk). Iz zhelch (Out of spite)." Pointing at Balalaika with his right hand, Boris mentions "Sofiya spasla nas ot ispolneniah (Sofiya saved us from execution). Y vitashilah nas iz turmi (And pulled us from jail). Vmesteh c novimih druzyamih (Along with new friends)."

Rustam nods at Vadim and says "Pochti (Almost)? Oni dolzhni bilih po-nastoyashimu ninavidalhi tebah (They must have truly hated you)." Scratching his head, Pavel Barestky blurts out "Razvei ni Vaynshteyn bilh v Selikamski (Wasn't Vaynshteyn in Solikamsk)?" Boris painfully sighs and says "Da, y pochti tahm sashol suma (Yes, and almost lost his mind there)." Balalaika leans forward, a stern look on her face, and says "Poprobutei paynaht (Try to understand)…mih ni pakupalih nash puht v kotorom mih cechas nahodimsah (we didn't buy our way into where we are right now). Mih verim v traditszih y uvazhenieh (We believe in tradition and respect). Mih ni novih Russkih (We are not new Russians). Dengi bezpoleznoh, yesli moieh slovah dermoh (Money is useless, if my word is crap)." Rustam frowns and leans forward, saying "Nu, ti ni vora v zakone (Well, you are not a thief in law)." Balalaika arcs her head back and menacingly replies "U menah yect svoe zakonih (I have my own laws). Ni yebaht soh mnoih, dehrzai svoih slovah, y ya ostavluh tebah srehdih zhivih (Do not fuck with me, keep your word, and I will leave you amongst the living)."

Rustam frowns and nods in approval and intrigue, saying "Mozhit biht, mi mozhim prohvesti biznes (Maybe we…maybe we can do business)." Lifting a $10 poker chip off her pile, she tosses the chip onto the table and asks "Shto u vas yect dlah menya (What do you have for me)?" Rustam leans forward and proceeds to say the one magic word that captures everyone's mind "Ya sizhu na neft (I am sitting on oil). V Kirgiziah (In Kyrgyzstan)." As everyone in the room grows completely silent in response to the bombshell that was dropped on the room, Balalaika turns around and scans the exit. Returning to Rustam, she breaks the silence and says "Hoches zashitah (Want protection)?" Rustam shakes his head and says "Bolshih (Bigger). Ya hachu investitsih (I want an investment). Vih poluchiteh kusohk. Ya ni veruh v moieh vlashteh (You will get a piece. I don't believe in my government). Onih zmeyih (They are snakes)."

Balalaika heaves a sigh and turns to Boris. She suddenly converses in English "Sergeant, you remember my job between Mr. Baek and Mr. Takahashi? I need you to do it in my place. You will receive the full commission. I would do it, but between this and my meetings with the Italian…" Boris nods and says "I understand, Kapitan. Thank you." Balalaika blinks and says "I'm thinking of involving Mr. Viapiano into my casino project. You remember, the one that collapsed a year ago. After the 14K ruined it? Vesuvio pulled his investment and then tried to kill us, Abrego refused to foot the repair cost, as you remember, and Chang refused to let us tax him for the repairs by threatening war, and the money we stole from Ronnie is not enough for the repairs, and plenty of it had to be used to repair Ronnie's old properties anyway. I am considering selling some more of the Sicilian's property that we got from the Roanapur government auctions. Not the docks that the Sicilians used to possess, but do you consider selling that building where that restaurant used to be?" Boris rubs his chin, thinking for a few seconds, and then says "I…would sell the restaurant and possibly even the rights to sell in that street. Along with the two dealers that are there. They are unreliable. I do agree with about the docks. It is a shame the casino collapsed. I was quite excited for it. All that money in the garbage…"

Balalaika and Boris nod in solemn agreement, as Rustam attempts and fails to follow their conversation. She turns to Rustam and asks "Sigraht paru karti (Play a few cards)?" As Boris drops a $20 chip onto the table, Rustam shuffles the deck and says "Sigrayim (Will play)."

Staking out a white, two floor house with pinkish red roof tiles and a brown granite 'fence' around it, Black Lagoon Company wait patiently for the secret police to arrive. Situated on the opposite end of a street that is surrounded by pagodas of various colors and styles, the three mercenaries and the two Italian-Canadian gangsters sip on beers and converse amongst themselves.

Suddenly, two black Nissan Primera P11 sedans pull up in front of the granite fenced house, each sedan holding two passengers in the front and one in the back. Shortly after parking, the occupants of the front car, two 30-something year-old Vietnamese men and a Vietnamese man in his late 40s, all dressed in dark green military uniforms, exit the vehicle and brandish Mini Uzis. They are followed by the occupants of the rear Primera, two Vietnamese men in their early 40s, and a Vietnamese woman in her late 40s, dressed in the same uniforms, all brandishing Mini Uzis. The six Tổng Cục Tình Báo agents storm the front porch, with the Vietnamese man in his late 40s signaling orders with his left hand. One of the 40-something year-old Vietnamese agents kicks the front door down without warning and runs to cover by the door frame, as the two 30-something year-old agents hold down the porch. The agent that is signaling orders takes point and infiltrates the house, as the remaining three agents follow.

Back in the Ford Explorer, Marty snaps his fingers and says "Alright, get the shit from the back. Try to be a little discreet, I think one of the green shrimps is eying us." Rock climbs out of his seat and into the trunk of the car, reaching into a very long, blue colored ice cooler, the ice gone and replaced with a Remington 870 Marine Magnum shotgun, an Uzi submachine gun holstered inside a shoulder strap, and a Steyr TMP with a shoulder stock attached to it. As Rock pulls the guns out of the ice cooler, Revy lifts her Cutlasses and shoulder straps from under Marty's car seat and Marty looks out a side window, pretending to not pay attention to the police raid. He shifts his eyes back onto the raid and, upon noticing that the two agents have looked away, yells "Now Rocco! Give em the stuff!" Hurriedly, Rock attaches the shoulder strap and Uzi to his left shoulder, hands Dutch his shotgun, and extends the TMP toward Marty, the latter immediately hiding it under the dashboard. While Revy puts her shoulder holsters on and draws a Cutlass with her right hand, Rock climbs back onto the backseat and draws his M9 from under his shirt, his heart beginning to race once again.

Rock closes his eyes and lets his mind drift to calmer places as Dutch and Revy hold their weapons and wait in anticipation, as if they were waiting for an appointment to get their teeth pulled. The two Vietnamese agents holding down the front porch nod at each other as the Vietnamese woman and one of the Vietnamese men from the rear Primera drag a middle aged Vietnamese man with graying black hair and a scar along his right cheek, dressed in a dark grey sweater, light grey sweat pants, and thin, black sandals, the man's arms handcuffed. The agents from the front Primera return to their original seats as the two agents dragging Trung Thanh Hoàng toss him into the back seat of the rear Primera, joining in the backseat, with the female agent seated behind the driver seat. The remaining agent returns to the driver seat of the rear Primera as the two cars slowly accelerate.

Marty taps Lloyd's shoulder and says "Pull up to the front car, to its left. Revy, since you're a good shot, when I start shooting my shit, take out the driver from the second car. Rocco and Dutch, take out the fucker in the backseat of the front car. Got it? Let's fucking do it then." Still on the effects of a quadruple espresso and no sleep, Lloyd sets the Ford Explorer to drive and hits the gas. He quickly makes a broken U-turn, bringing the Ford Explorer onto the same lane as the two Nissan Primeras. He follows the Nissan Primeras as they both make left turns. Keeping a car distance between the Explorer and the rear Primera, Lloyd enters Tự Phước Street, his arms clutching tightly on the steering wheel. He follows them for several blocks until the three cars reach a triangle shaped fork in the road, with the exit on the right leading to a dirt covered road. As the two Primeras switch to the right edge of their lane. Lloyd seizes his opportunity and speeds up to the front car. Revy and Dutch roll down their windows mid-transit.

Rolling down his window, Marty, TMP under the dashboard, yells at the Vietnamese agent "Hey buddy! You know the way to the city?!" The Vietnamese agent darts Marty a dirty look, sighs, and proceeds to point at the dirt road, saying "You follow that dirt road. Then you…" While the agent gives direction, not looking at the Ford Explorer, Marty picks up his TMP and yells "Time to eat shit!" He unloads ten bullets from the TMP, the first two striking the driver in the left side of his head, sending the agent head first onto the Primera's cup holder, dead. The next three shots strike the window and dashboard next to the agent that is riding shotgun. The sixth and seventh shots strike that agent in his left ribs, as the agent yells in pain and attempts to open his car door. The eight bullet strikes the car door as it begins to swing open, the ninth bullet severs the agent's aorta, and the last bullet strikes the agent an inch to the left of his heart. As the driver's dead foot slides off the brakes, the Vietnamese officer that is trying to escape falls back-first out of the Primera, bleeding to death shortly after hitting the asphalt, the car slowly moving away.

Immediately afterwards, Revy sticks her Cutlass out of her window and fires four shots into the stunned driver of the rear Primera, deeply gashing the left side of his neck. The driver lets his hands go of the wheel and presses them onto his neck, as blood surges through the cracks between his fingers. As that driver bleeds out, Dutch exits the car with his shotgun and runs to the front of the Explorer, aiming his shotgun at the remaining agent in the front Primera. Rock follows Dutch out of the car as Dutch and Marty unload onto the barely moving front car, shattering the rear windows and sending chunks of leather and flesh out of the car. The agent manages to stick his Mini Uzi out of the rear window that is facing the Explorer. He fires off a few harmless shots before dropping the Mini Uzi onto the asphalt, expiring, his right arm dangling out the window.

At this point, the driver of the rear Primera slumps dead on the wheel, his head pushing the wheel to the left. Spotting this, Lloyd backs the Explorer up to catch the slowly moving Primera. The remaining male Vietnamese agent and the female Vietnamese agent shoot out their windows and proceed to open fire on the Ford Explorer. Lloyd, Revy, and Marty duck their heads as glass and leather swirls in the air amidst the hail of bullets, while Dutch and Rock take cover behind the body of the Explorer. Grinding his teeth, Dutch says "Revy, you got the guy on the left, Rock and I got the woman on the right." Laughing, Lloyd yells out "Haha!" From the Primera, the female agent yells "Bảo vệ tù nhân (Protect the prisoner)!"

The female Vietnamese agent and Revy each exit their respective cars at the same time. Dutch uses the opportunity to fire two rounds of buckshot into the female agent, as Rock squeezes in a shot. Pellets shred the Tổng Cục Tình Báo agent's stomach and abdomen, as the sheer force knocks her off her feet. Falling backwards, with blood seeping out of her front and back, she slams the back of her head against the metal frame of the car between the car door and the rear tire, taking her last gasp of air as she croaks. Meanwhile, Revy zeros in on the remaining secret police agent, draws a second Cutlass, and lunges onto the hood of the Primera. She lands slightly awkwardly on her left shoulder and aims at the shocked agent, who is sitting on the car window and opening fire on the Ford Explorer. As he turns to shoot at Revy, Revy fires off three shots each from her two Cutlasses, the first two shots striking the agent in the right side of his ass, the third shot missing, the fourth shot striking the Mini Uzi in the barrel, knocking it out of his hand, the fifth shot striking the man's right forearm, and the last shot missing. The remaining agent falls out of the car and lands on his back, grunting in pain, his bleeding arm inching toward the nearby Mini Uzi. Seeing this, Revy climbs off the hood of the Primera, runs up to the agent, and fires a bullet through his nose, killing him.

Revy holsters her Cutlasses and unlocks the rear car door. She reaches into the back seat and yanks Trung out by his legs. Revy then grabs him by the throat and lifts him up, saying "Annoy us, and I'll spread your fucking brains on the sidewalk." Trung nods, terrified out of his wits, as Marty yells "What the fuck?! My fucking car! Revy! Lloyd! Someone get a clean car!"

Hiding behind the Ford Explorer, Rock spots a distant incoming car, roughly a block away, and runs in front of it, M9 in hand. Rock yells "I got it!" and takes off, running toward a grey Ford Taurus, the car's radio playing a Vietnamese classic rock song "Tinh Yeu Tuyet Voi" by the CBC Band. Rock runs up to the front of the car as the driver sets the car into park. He quickly runs up to the driver's door, sticks his M9 through the rolled down window, and yells "Let me take the car! Đi ra (Get out)!" The driver, a bald Vietnamese man in his forties, wearing a collared blue shirt and dark green cargo shorts, hauling several boxes in the backseat, glares at Rock and yells "Go away!" The driver attempts to set the car to drive as Rock reaches for the car door handle. The driver turns his attention back to Rock and grapples with Rock's hands, trying to reach for the M9. Brazenly and defiantly, the driver grabs onto the barrel of the M9 and attempts to pry it out of Rock's hand.

Sweating and rapidly losing control of the situation, Rock yells "Let go! What the hell are you doing?! Let go now!" He feels the man's hands slowly pulling the M9 out of his grasp. Suddenly, Rock jerks his right arm back. His finger slips, slamming onto the trigger.

*BANG*

The world around him slows to a crawl as Rock watches the driver slump his head over the car door, blood and brain matter seeping out of his head. His hands shaking and his body overwhelmed with a sharp, empty sensation, as if his insides were scooped out, Rock mutters feebly "Oh no…oh no, no, no. What the…what the fuck have I done. What the…oh damn. Oh man. Please get up, please get up. Say something please. PLEASE!"

The Ford Explorer drives up to Rock, with Marty yelling "Jesus, what the fuck happened?!" Rock places his hands on his head and yells "Oh damn…oh. I DIDN'T WANT TO KILL HIM! HE TRIED TO PRY MY GUN OUT! Oh I really screwed up this time! Oh no Rokuro, look what you did now." Marty raises his eyebrow and says "You retarded or something? Whatever, get the fuck out of the way. Dutch, get Trung! Lloyd, you got the driver seat." As Lloyd tries to reach the driver seat, intending to pull the dead driver out, Rock unconsciously blocks his path, still in a state shock and extreme despair. As Lloyd pushes Rock out of the way, opening the car door and letting the dead man fall out, Marty yells "CAN SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS STUPID JAP OUT OF THE WAY?!"

A blood pool proceeds to form around the corpse, the corpse lying face down on the asphalt. Lloyd fumbles with the buttons on the car door, accidently opening the lid for the gas valve before unlocking the trunk. Dragging Trung by his neck, Dutch opens the trunk of the car and tosses Trung into it. Realizing what is going on, Trung yells "Wait a minute!" before Dutch slams the trunk onto Trung's head and seals it. Revy approaches Rock and says "Holy…didn't see that coming. Why are you standing like that?" Marty scans the damage on his Ford Explorer and yells "Godfuck this shit to….arrgh! Wait, I got an idea. The distraction team should get into the Ford Explorer and drive west. I'm thinking that it should get the cops attention. Now let us fuck on out of here!"

"WAIT!" Rock yells out, trying to make sense of everything and anything, as the song on the radio reaches a long guitar solo. Revy smirks and says "Wait for what? Wait for him to come back to life?" Rock glares viciously at Revy and says "I want to fix this." Her smirk becoming a laugh, Revy counters "Fix this? Like…ya wanna scoop his brains off the road, put it back in like a jigsaw puzzle? Maybe slap some make-up on him or give him an MLB hat? Good as new, eh? HE'S FUCKING DEAD! He's a hunk of meat, it's over! Done! Shit happens! Let's get the fuck out of here before the pigs arrive!"

From the corner of his eye, Dutch glances at a trio of green uniformed men running toward them. Raising his shotgun, Dutch yells "Too late! We got guests!" Marty yells "Ah fuck" and aims his TMP at the group, while Revy draws both her Cutlasses. The two, plus Dutch with his shotgun, open fire at the three Vietnamese patrol cops, the cops all carrying Tokarev pistols. The cops all congregate around a granite foot long fence, in front of a grass porch, and return fire. Quickly, Lloyd drives off a few meters away, out of the line of fire, as Marty and Dutch run to cover behind the Ford Explorer. Rock, still standing numbly over the dead pedestrian, is tackled by Revy as she yells "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Two bullets and a couple of pellets strike one of the cops in the chest, causing the cop to clutch onto his wounds and fall backwards over the granite fence, landing slightly awkwardly after a three foot drop. The two cops dive to cover behind the granite fence, lying prone, as the third cop groans in pain and fires a couple haphazard shots over the fence. A lucky shot strikes Dutch in the left leg, lodging itself firmly into the interior of his left thigh, almost striking an artery. Dutch falls onto his ass and draws his revolver, yelling "God damn you all!" He fires five bullets at the cops, as one of the officers rises to his knees, aiming his Tokarev. The last three bullets fly toward the rising cop, with one of them ripping through the policeman's chin, killing him and spraying blood everywhere. The officer's dead body tips to the left and collapses, as the unharmed policeman yells out "Giúp đỡ (Help)!"

Using his shotgun for support, Dutch sluggishly crawls to cover behind the Ford Explorer. He turns left and watches Revy drag Rock to cover as if he had been shot. Right next to Rock, Marty slams in a fresh set of bullets into his TMP and jumps out of cover, emptying most of them at the one cop that still has fight in him, the cop standing up to aim at Marty. Two bullets strike the man in his gut while a third strikes the man's left hand, causing the cop to drop his guns and grab onto his gut. Shortly afterwards, his legs buckle, causing the cop to fall on his right shoulder, wounded and breathing heavily. Marty yells at Lloyd and motions him to come closer, and then turns to Black Lagoon Company and says "Revy, you take Emperor Brainlessjima with you in the Explorer and drive off ANYWHERE but east. We will head east. I'm thinking the bullet holes would attract enough attention. Dutch! You can walk? You're coming with us."

The Ford Taurus arrives at the scene, with Marty jumping into the front side passenger seat and Dutch limping along into the backseat, using his shotgun for leverage. Before entering the car with Marty, Dutch turns to Rock and Revy and yells "Good luck! And Rock, stop being stupid! See you on the other side." Groaning in pain, he climbs into the Taurus and closes his eyes. As the Taurus accelerates eastward, Revy drags Rock onto his feet and pushes him into the front side passenger seat, before taking the driver seat for herself. Without warning, Rock sticks his head out of his window and vomits all over the asphalt and car door. Revy slams her left palm against her forehead and says "Rock! Rocky baby! I'd tell you some bullshit to make you feel happy and stupid, like you love to do, but right now, we are Vietnam's Most Wanted. SO SNAP BACK TO IT!" She angrily sets the car to drive, brushing off shards of glass, and slams her foot on the gas pedal, driving north up a dirt road, as a red Toyota Corolla follows in the distance.

Crawling to the first cop that was shot, the third cop, sporting short, combed back, black hair, thin eyebrows, and a thick moustache, groans in pain and yells "Binh! Ở lại với tôi (Stay with me)!" He reaches the policeman, the man lying face down on blood soaked grass, and turns him onto his back. To his deep distress, the officer finds that the man has bled to death. The remaining police officer lifts the man's corpse to his chest and presses it against himself, cradling the dead man's head. The officer says "Em trai, xin (Brother, please). Đừng bỏ em (Do not leave me)." He deeply sighs as a few tears roll down his eyes. Silently crying, the officer looks into the distance, northward, and says "Tôi sẽ tìm thấy bạn (I will find you). Chúa giúp tôi, tôi sẽ giết tất cả các bạn (God help me, I'll kill you all)."

Barreling through the opposite lane and sending cars and motorcyclists to the sidewalks, Revy glances at Rock and says "Okajima…this is really not the time." Rock slowly turns his head to the left, glaring angrily at Revy. Starting to hiss, he yells out "…Fuck You!" Revy laughs and says "Sure! Later! Now SHUT THE FUCK UP! Shoot at something! The sun! I don't give a shit!" Growling in anger at Revy, Rock clutches tightly onto his M9 and fires it out of his window, into the sky, sending pedestrians amok as a few scream in response. Satisfied, Revy says "Better. You feeling pissed off? Good, cause we got bacon to fry. Oh look at that, I see a Nissan Primera with the sirens on. Behind you, shoot em." A white and blue Nissan Primera that has the words 'Cảnh Sát (Police)' painted on the sides speeds up to the shell of a Ford Explorer, the cop car occupied by two Vietnamese police officers in their 20s, dressed in dark green uniforms.

"Alright, I have this under control," Rock mutters, shelving his emotions aside as he places his left hand under the top of the windshield frame, the glass long shattered. He contorts his body to the right, sticks his upper torso out of his window, and extends his right arm at the police car, M9 in hand. His left hand gripping tightly for support, he squeezes off bullets, one shot every two seconds, seven total, adjusting his aim as Revy weaves through traffic. The first two bullets miss over the car, the third bullet cracks the headlight on the left, the fourth bullet cracks a hole in the windshield right above the cop that is riding shotgun, the sixth bullets sails over the car, and the last bullet cracks a hole in the windshield right between the two cops. At this point, a Vietnamese traffic cop in a beige uniform with a beige police officer cap jumps in front of the Ford Explorer, Smith & Wesson 10 revolver in hand. He fires off a couple of shots at Revy, who ducks right before he pulls the trigger, the bullets hitting her car seat. She quickly slams on the gas pedal and charges at the policeman, who turns left and attempts to dive. Before he could dive, the Ford Explorer runs over the policeman, crushing him under the wheels.

The Ford Explorer bumps as it runs over the officer, causing Rock to slide back into his seat. The pursuing cop car swerves to the right, avoided the policeman's contorted corpse, as a red Toyota Corolla speeds past the cop car and avoids the dead body. Laughing, Revy sticks the middle finger of her left hand out the window and yells "Where's ya Lenin now?! Ya fuckin' pinko cockhounds!" She turns her head to Rock, who has resumed his blank, guilt-wracked mindset. She grinds her teeth and yells "What the fuck?! Can you fucking shelf it or something?! We are getting chased by police! Whatever, you get shot, I don't give a shit!" She reaches toward the radio, brushing glass shards aside. She turns on the radio, which is giving static. A press of a button and a Khmer rock station comes on, playing the beginning of "Penh Jet Thai Bong Mouy" by female Khmer psychedelic rock and blues singer Ros Sereysothea.

Heading up the dirt road, the Ford Explorer becomes flanked by an incline surrounded with white, tented greenhouses on the left, and a small forest on the right. A 2nd police car pulls up within three car lengths of the Ford Explorer, the police car occupied by a Vietnamese man and a Vietnamese woman in their early 30s, the Vietnamese man driving the car. Overhearing the sirens, Rock sighs and says "I know, I know." He repeats his earlier position and aims his M9 at the police car, firing three shots at the car. The first two shots bounce off the hood of the car, with the 2nd bullet ricocheting harmlessly into the windshield, cracking it. The third bullet passes right under the crack left by the 2nd bullet, exiting out of the rear window. Firing a few more harmless shots, Rock attempts futilely to steady his aim, as the radio ends the song and begins "Dondeung Koun Kay" by Meas Samorn.

Eying the greenhouses, Revy yells "Get back in!" A quick, hard turn of the steering wheel and the Explorer barrels down toward the greenhouses, as the police car zips by, leaving pursuit. Panicking, Rock yells "Revy, what the hell?! We are going to crash!" The first greenhouse approaching, its lab coat wearing occupants scattering and yelling in horror, Revy aims the Ford Explorer at a plane of glass that isn't in the middle of machinery. As she gets within several meters of the greenhouse, Revy grabs Rock on his left arm with her right hand and yanks him under the dashboard, as she herself ducks. Steadying the wheel as shards of glass and patches of dirt and clay fly into the car, Revy places her right arm in front of her face, anticipating an imminent crash. Noticing this, Rock drops his M9 and buries his head into his arms, bracing for impact as well, as greenhouse after greenhouse becomes torpedoed by the SUV.

After almost a minute of hearing the sound of broken glasses and screaming Vietnamese botanists running for their lives, Revy peers her head up, only to yell "Oh fuck!" as she finds herself driving head on towards a Vietnamese café, the café barely a straw shack. The male, Vietnamese proprietor and a white, male, Western European patron are in mid-conversation, only to break their conversation when the proprietor points and yells in Vietnamese accented English "Watch out! Run!" The patron turns around and yells in a Massachusetts accent "Oh God, EVERYONE RUN!" The patron quickly grabs a beige rucksack as he and the Vietnamese man scatter and run out of the café.

A loud crash resonates through the streets. Pedestrians, predominately Vietnamese with some American, Australian, and Thai tourists/expatriates, congregate around the crash. A baby cries out in the distance as the Vietnamese proprietor and his patron walk up to the wreck. A hanging ceiling fan falls off, causing the two to flinch. The Vietnamese proprietor sighs and says "Mười năm với cửa hàng này (Ten years with this store). Bây giờ nó đã biến mất (Now it's gone). Ten years, into the toilet." The American patron turns around and watches the crowd congregate on him, saying "Some people huh? Hope you got some insurance coming in, Kính. Check if the idiot survived. Here's hoping it's someone rich." Kính forces a laugh and says "Oh please, I hope so. Maybe they could cover everything. Chào ngu dại (Hey jackass)! Bạn vẫn còn sống (Are you still alive)?"

The American patron inspects the Ford Explorer and says "What the…holy mother of God, it is covered in bullet holes." Kính gives the American a double take and asks "What did you say?" as Rock and Revy stir back into consciousness, a few cuts and bruises on their persons. Groggily, Rock lifts his M9 off from where his feet are and places it on the dashboard. Spotting this, Kính yells "RUN! Họ có sung (They have guns)! They are armed!" The American patron, the Vietnamese proprietor, and most of the crowd quickly scatter, as a few remaining pedestrians glare on in confusion. As Rock climbs out through his window, M9 in hand, the remaining pedestrians quickly take off, realizing what is going on. Rock, groaning in pain, falls onto a crushed wooden coffee table, as Revy follows suit, landing on Rock. Her Cutlasses in her hands, she spots a Toyota Corolla creeping up to the site. At the driver seat, Tuyết silences the radio and stares on in wonderment, saying "This looks interesting…is that Martin's car?" Seated right next to her, Branca squints his eyes and says "Is that the bitch that we are supposed to have whacked?" Tuyết sighs and says "Đụ (fuck), I think she saw us. Now we have to pick her up. But why is that car here? They were driving north, we went with them and then turned west." Branca shrugs his shoulders and says "It might have something to do with that trail of greenhouse shit." Tuyết closes in on Revy, who is waving at them in the middle of the street, and says "Whatever, we still get paid for driving them back to the safe house."

As Tuyết drives up to Revy, she rolls down her window and asks "What happened?" Revy coughs out a little blood and reaches into her mouth, groaning as she says "Ahh shit, a tooth is loose. Rock jacked a car because the Explorer got shot up. Marty, Lloyd, Dutch, and that police fuck are long headed east. Me and Rocky boy went north and then drove through those greenhouses. Notice the mile long stretch of broken glass." Tuyết and Branca turn right and glance at the trail, causing Branca to let out a laugh. Tuyết turns to Revy and says "I know what happened to Marty, I saw it. You drive like a lunatic. Get inside." Revy waves Rock over to the car, the latter holding his neck in pain with his left hand. Clumsily walking toward the Corolla, Rock says "I think I sprained my neck." He climbs into the seat behind Branca as Revy climbs into the seat behind Tuyết. Immediately afterwards, the car slowly accelerates to a comfortable speed, heading north. Two police cars pass the red Corolla, heading south toward the crash and the trail of glass.

Groaning in pain, Revy says "Goddamnit, now I need a fake tooth. I hope you got some cotton things at the safe house." Branca shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know. You were supposed to hold them off for much longer. The cops." Revy snarls at Branca and says "I just drove through like fifty greenhouses. I think the cops got their hands full right now. That and the smashed café. So screw off." Branca opens the palm of his left hand and raises it, saying "Just saying. We get paid for driving you to the safe house, you get paid for being an annoying fuck to the cops. That was the plan. If Marty catches any heat, it's on you." Revy snarls once again at Branca and says "Mind your own business alright? Arrgh, I think I can feel the nerve dangling or some shit. It's a front tooth too, ah fuck."

Looking out of the window, Rock watches pedestrians strolling along the way, a few talking amongst themselves and pointing at the trail of crushed greenhouses. A sharp pang resonates through his chest, as Rock huddles into his seat, leaning on his right shoulder. His hands shaking frantically and his chest feeling in short supply of air, he closes his eyes and futilely tries, with all his might, to wipe his mind clean of all that has transpired.

Seated in front of a table, in a narrow kitchen, a forty-something year-old, slightly light skinned, North Indian man sticks a white porcelain spoon into a Styrofoam cup of Tom Kha Kai soup, scooping up coconut broth, coriander, shitake mushrooms, and chunks of chicken. The man is sporting a thick, black moustache and connecting goatee, and is wearing a black, silk dastar turban. He is dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and dark grey sweat pants, and is walking in light grey socks. He turns left and peers out of his apartment window, taking in the Roanapur breeze, glancing at walking pedestrians from a third floor view. Returning to his soup, the Sikh man takes another spoonful of it, and then leans forward at a straw hanging out of a coconut, taking a sip of coconut milk. The man turns right, eying a small stove right next to the table he is eating off of. Past the stove, and into a beige colored hallway, he spots another table, the table covered with newspapers written in English and Hindi, a plastic bag with a few napkins in it, and a paperback copy of an English translation of 18th century Chinese novel Hóng Lóu Mèng (Dream of the Red Chamber).

A knock reverberates through the apartment, followed by another. The Sikh man raises an eyebrow, setting his spoon into the soup. He climbs out of his seat and wipes his mouth with a hanging rose petal patterned towel. Placing the towel back on the rack, he steps into the hallway, a door on the right and a living room on the left. The Sikh man peers through an eyehole, spotting a skinny young Thai woman in a sleeveless green dress, a short blue skirt, and black high heels, her hair tied into a bun. The Sikh man's eyes light up as he smiles and brush his goatee with his fingers. Straightening his shirt and pulling up his pants, the Sikh man removes the chain on the door and opens it, cheerfully saying in North Indian accented English "Hello!"

Suddenly, the Thai woman takes a step back, as the silencer of a Beretta 92SB strikes the Sikh man across his left cheek, drawing blood. The Sikh man falls on his right shoulder against the door frame, yelling in Hindi "Kyia bakwas hai (What the crap)?!" Before the Sikh man could say anymore, a Western European looking man covers the Sikh's mouth with his left hand and aims the silenced Beretta at the Sikh's heart with his right hand. The man with the silenced gun has bushy, black hair and is wearing a red Nike replica jersey of the South Korean national football team, a gold chain with a gold Catholic cross, black leather gloves, blue jeans, and dark grey sneakers. Behind him, a young Vietnamese man stuffs a handful of Bhat into the Thai woman's right hand, saying in Thai accented English "Here you go, now get out." The Vietnamese man is sporting buzz cut black hair, a white and beige checkered collared shirt, black leather gloves, black cargo shorts, and dark green sandals, holding a silenced Beretta 92SB in his left hand. The Western European looking man pushes the Sikh man further inside the apartment, his Beretta aimed at the man's chest, as the Vietnamese man locks the door behind them.

Twirling the silenced pistol in his hands, as if signaling the Sikh man to shoo away, the Western European man blurts out in a slightly nasally Buffalo, NY accent "Hey Viên, you got the door?" Viên checks the door to make sure it's locked, and says "It's locked, Mr. Orlandi." Orlandi smirks and keeps walking forward, causing to terrified Sikh to trip and fall onto the wooden floor, his right hand landing on the newspapers. Standing right above him, Orlandi leans forward, the Beretta out of the Sikh man's reach, and says "Mahaveer Singh, we want a little chat with you. That all." Orlandi turns to the novel on the table and picks it up with his left hand, scanning it. Shrugging his shoulders, Orlandi says "Never got around to reading it. Would, if I knew how to read."

He and Viên exchange a few laughs as the Sikh man crawls away and into a living room, the living room sporting a black and beige vertically stripped fabric couch flanked on both sides by huge bookcases filled to the brink with books, VHS tapes, and vinyl records. Opposite the couch is a small black TV with a VHS player right above it, the VHS player held in place on top of the TV with medical gauze under it. Raising his hands in surrender, his entire body shaking, Mahaveer frantically says "If you want money, I have little. Please, I am not involved in anything!" As the two gangsters approach Mahaveer in the living room, Orlandi tosses the book onto the couch and blurts out "We are looking for one of your friends, used to live here. Went by the name of Pongsak Shinasarn." Mahaveer raises an eyebrow and says "Pongsak? …he left. I don't know where. He gave me his share of the apartment as a gift and then left. I don't know where. Please don't kill me! Waheguru, mujhi rakshah karnah (Wonderful Lord, please protect me)."

Orlandi stomps on Mahaveer's left knee cap, sending a jolt of pain through his body. Grinding his teeth, Orlandi angrily threatens "If you don't give that cocksucker up, I'm going to take that doo rag on your head and shove it up your asshole." Furious and in pain, tears of agony rolling down his eyes, Mahaveer yells "Fuck you! Bhenchod (Sister fucking) scumbag!" Stomping again on Mahaveer's left knee cap, Orlandi continues "Give me Pongsak, or I'll chop you up into bite sized pieces and feed you to the homeless. We can do this all day, you paki fuck." Mahaveer lunges his right fist at Orlandi, who simply steps back and out of the way. Returning to Mahaveer, he points his silenced pistol at Mahaveer's right knee cap and fires a shot, drilling into it and spraying blood on the floor. As Mahaveer begins to scream in pain, Orlandi places his right shoe over Mahaveer's mouth, partially to silence his screams, partially to infuriate him more. Laughing, Viên says "Congratulations, now you have no legs. Keep this up, and your balls will be next."

Removing his foot from Mahaveer's mouth, Orlandi turns to Viên and says "That's a pretty good idea. Maybe if you give me that rat fuck, I could conveniently forget my friend said that." Seething through his teeth, Mahaveer says "I would tell you if you would stop insulting and attacking me, arrgh! Ghinonah jahnwer (Disgusting animal), I'll tell you, argh my legs!" Orlandi extends his arms out and says "I've been waiting since last week. Tell me already." Catching his breath, Mahaveer says "He said that he stole money from some dangerous people, that he needed to get out of the country. He gave me his half of the apartment, gave me some money, and asked me to help him find someplace to live in India. I directed him to my hometown of Lucknow, where he went to live with a friend of mine. How did you even find out about this? He said that the people he stole from blamed someone else."

Orlandi smirks and says "A little eagle directed us to you." Clearly confused, Mahaveer yells out "What?!" Ignoring the remark, Orlandi menacingly inquires "Now where is your friend's place in Lucknow?" As Orlandi aims his pistol at Mahaveer's crotch, Mahaveer yells in fear "He lives in Mahanagar Colony, I forgot where! He may have moved, I haven't spoken to him in months! Pongsak already left my friend's place, he now lives somewhere else in Lucknow! Maybe even out of the city, but still in Uttar Pradesh, I think! Now get out! And never come back!" Satisfied with the results of the interrogation, Orlandi reaches toward a black telephone on a receiver and tosses it at Mahaveer's face, saying "Enjoy the day." He and Viên exit the apartment, laughing to each other, as Mahaveer lets out a stream of tears, both of his legs in great pain.

Sitting in a bathroom in the Bouganville Trading Company, seated on the closed lid of the toilet, Fred Viapiano feels his phone vibrate in his slacks pocket. Dressed in a collared, buttoned shirt consisting of a blended design of vertical stripes of various shades of green and brown, with the stripes perpendicular on the sleeves, dark brown slacks held up by a black leather belt with a stainless steel buckle, and dark grey boating shoes, he reaches into his right pocket and pulls out his cell phone. Putting his cell phone to his ear, Viapiano asks "It's done, right Benny? You got it?" Standing outside a payphone, across the street from a department store, Benjamin Orlandi answers "India. In…ugh…Lucknow I think he said. Uttar…Pradesh…yea Uttar Pradesh. Last known in…Mahanagar Colony, and the guy thinks he is still in the general area around there." Orlandi's gloves are in his pocket. Viên, standing outside the payphone, also has his gloves in his pocket. Viapiano stretches his left shoulder, rolling it, and asks "That's all you got?" Orlandi shrugs his shoulders and says "All he could give me. I think he was telling the truth. Maybe get that friend of yours, that government friend, to help?" Viapiano grimaces and says "She still owes me one favor, and she's probably going to use this to weasel out of that last favor. Alright, fuck it. Thanks Benny, you did good. Take a break to Phuket or Singapore or something, for a week." Orlandi nods and says "No problem. Good luck." Orlandi hangs up the phone and exits the booth. He turns to Viên and says "I'm taking a vacation. See ya."

Seated in a red Toyota Corolla, the car parked in a driveway and the front seats empty, Rock and Revy groan in pain, glaring at a two floor brick townhouse. As Tuyết and Branca inspect the exterior of the house for any surveillance, Revy uses the opportunity to say "You really need to get your head checked out or something. I almost caught a bullet for you, dipshit." Closing his eyes and favoring his neck, Rock seethes through his teeth and says "I am not used to killing innocent people that had nothing to do with this job of ours. Maybe you are." Laughing through the pain, Revy touches her loose tooth with her right hand and says "You keep getting more full of shit by the day. It's actually kind of impressive. You talk about how you don't feel guilty bout using drug money to pay for your shit, bout how you helped get those mercenaries killed, or those mobster fucks back in Japan, or all this. But here you are, slitting your wrists over some dumbass local who you never met and would never meet again if he just handed it over clean. And fuck you." A streak of tears flowing out of his eyes, Rock forces himself to say "Those mercenaries that went after me? Those Japanese gangsters? Luca, Van Thirith's gang? Those Papuan pirates? Shane Caxton's soldiers? They knew what they were getting into. But that man that I killed today, he had nothing to do with this!" His tears overflowing, he chokes and says "He…he was just going to see his family, or to come from work, or whatever! He didn't deserve to die! I just needed his car!" Rolling her eyes, Revy yells "Then why the FUCK did you volunteer to get the car?!" "Because I wanted to show Dutch that I am not deadweight! That I am not some useless Burakumin Japanese office rat that is leeching money by occasionally opening his mouth! Maybe I was angry with some of things that Dutch said, back when those Papuans attacked, back in the warehouse before the Van Thirith raid, I have pride too! I am not some parasite that hopped on for the ride, like Fujiwara called me back in Japan! I wanted to prove that I am competent and deserving of recognition. I wanted to…I don't even know! I fucked up so badly!"

Raising her right arm up and driving it down, slapping her right leg in a mix of annoyance and exasperation, Revy says "Then that's your fucking problem. Deal with it. It's fucking done. I almost got shot tackling you to the ground, you idiot fuck! If that, I don't know what…that mental shutdown that you had earlier today…if that is going to be a recurring problem, then maybe you should keep your contributions to anecdotes and looking pretty and stupid. Yea, maybe you should do that, so I don't get fucking killed!"

Rock harkens back to his conversation with Benny on the day that Luca kidnapped him.

" _What if that wasn't Feng whose brains were about to spill all over Jane's head? What if that was me? Or Dutch?"_

A violent surge of rage overtakes Rock, resonating through his entire body. His hands clutch onto his knees and his throat constrains as if his Adam's apple is ready to pop out.

_"What if that was Revy?"_

He starts quietly muttering "I can't do anything right. I can't do anything right. I can't do anything right. I can't do anything right. I can't do any…" "What the fuck are you talking about, you degenerate dipshit?" Revy snarls, picking at her loose tooth. Slamming his fist against the seat in front of him, he yells "Well maybe you need stop looking for me! Well maybe you should mind your own ass and stop watching mine! Well maybe you should grow a few genuine emotions and stop pretending like you actually give a remote shit about me! YOU COLD, SOULLESS BITCH!"

A look of complete shock overcomes Revy, as she accidently tears the dangling tooth out of her mouth, blood seeping out. As blood drops fall from the top of her mouth onto her lips and lower teeth, she musters a confused and paralyzed "What?" At his limit, Rock hurriedly opens the car door slightly, kicks it open, and slams it in front of Revy. After slamming the door, he extends his right hand at Revy and clenches his fist. He wedges his right thumb between his right index and middle finger, forming the Eastern European/Japanese equivalent of the middle finger. He points the tip of his thumb at Revy and yells "FUCK YOU!"

As he walks up to the steps, Branca approaches him and quietly says "Have you lost your fucking mind? There are people looking at us, what happened?" Rock frowns and places his right hand on the back of his neck, saying "Nothing, forget it. I just want to go inside. Can I go inside?" Branca exhales an exasperated sigh and says "Alright, the front was swept anyway. C'mon, get in before you make a crowd." Rock waves Branca off and says "Yeah, yeah."

Still frozen from what transpired, Revy fixates her eyes on Rock as he enters the townhouse. Her shock slowly morphs in barely contained fury, as she grinds her bloody teeth and clenches her fallen tooth in her right hand, the roots of the tooth digging into her skin, cutting it. Her entire body shakes in anger as she puts her right fist an inch through the driver seat's head rest, the head rest slightly dangling over the seat. She continues to flail around, punching and kicking the driver seat, as Tuyết runs up to Revy from the rear of the driveway, waving frantically at Revy to stop destroying her car.

Stopping at an old, almost empty gas station, Lloyd hurriedly exits the car and pulls out a credit card. After swiping, he chooses the cheapest gas available and hurriedly stuffs the gas pump into the car's gas feed. Groaning in pain, Dutch clutches onto his left leg and says "Wonderful! We ran out of gas after I got shot. If I end up like that one-legged guy from the docks…" Marty gestures at Dutch to be quieter and says "Take it easy, you'll live. Just don't draw attention to yourself." Dutch nods in understanding and pulls out a cell phone.

Eying the cell phone nervously, Marty asks "What you doing with that?" Dutch winces in pain and replies "I'm calling Revy. Making sure the two are alive." Marty cracks a nervous smile and says "Hey…they are fine. I don't think you need to call them." Dutch raises an eyebrow and says "They are being hunted by the police. I think I got a damn good reason to call them." Marty extends his arms out and cracks a cheesy smile, saying "C'monnn! You're hurt. Don't strain yourself." Dutch removes his sunglasses with his left hand and drops them on the backseat to the right of him. Eying Marty with a look of suspicion, Dutch says "I took a bullet to my thigh, not my arm. And last time I checked, dialing a cell phone is not an Olympic sport. You got a phone call a few minutes ago. I assume it is from that Vietnamese woman… Tuyết." Marty smiles once more and says "Hey…" Dutch darts a dirty look at Marty and says "I'm calling." As Dutch presses a couple of buttons on his cell phone, Marty rolls onto his seat and mutters under his breath "Shit."

Putting his cell phone to his right ear, Dutch says "Revy, you there? Where are you? The safe house? Good. Rock made it safely? What? I don't care, is he alive or not? He is alive? Good. He is fine? Revy, as your boss, I want a straight answer. What? Okay, thank you. That's all. I'm heading to the boat. My leg's a little fucked up. Tell Rock to clear his head or something, drink a beer or whatever. Revy?" Pocketing his cell phone, Dutch says "She hung up. Sounds like Rock and Revy had a fight. Well, if they are still breathing, then that is fine by me. Now my only worry is that Benny and your friend Ippolito aren't doing anything stupid on the Lagoon."

"Got any Kings?" Ippolito asks, wearing a sleeveless white shirt and black track pants, seated on a folding chair at the stern of the Lagoon, his elbows on a round, metal table with a parasol in the middle, opened. Opposite him, Benny, dressed in his Hawaiian shirt and beige slacks, nonchalantly looks at his cards and says "Go fish." Groaning, Ippolito pulls a card out of a deck and says "I'm collecting more fours then the Ashes." Benny laughs and says "You're not supposed to say what cards you got."

Scratching his chin and looking at the vast waters around him, the Lagoon anchored out in sea, Ippolito says "Let's make this more interesting." Benny, raising an eyebrow, asks "Interesting…how?" Ippolito looks to the port of the Lagoon and spots a shirtless, sunglasses wearing, slightly hairy-chest Western European looking man lying on a beach chair with a tanning mirror in his hands. He is completely bald and clean shaven, skinny, in his mid 40s, and is wearing brown cargo pants. Snapping his fingers, Ippolito yells out "Hey Eddie-boy! Here this out!" The rest of his body completely motionless, Eddie extends his right arm upwards and gives Ippolito the middle finger. Waving his right arm up and down and rolling his eyes, Ippolito turns to Benny and says "Alright, this is gonna be a little crazy."

Confused, Benny inquires further "What do you need?" Ippolito leans his head forward and scratches the back of his neck, saying "I'd do this myself, but in this case, it's gonna take three to tango, you know?" His confusion turning into ever growing horror, Benny's eyes widen as he mutters "What?" Ippolito sighs and extends his arms out, saying "I need you to play pitcher and Eddie to play fielder. Maybe you could take a turn catching." Now completely terrified, Benny scans the Lagoon for an ideal place to abandon ship as he nervously asks "Excuse me?" Oblivious to Benny's emotional state, Ippolito says "It's something I wanted to do since high school. Look, I know it's risky, but Eddie only pitches fastballs down the middle, so as long as nothing bounces between the cracks, we're good." Jumping out of his seat, Benny yells out "NO! I DON'T WANT A FUCKING THREESOME!"

At the sound of that, Eddie bursts into such hysterical laughter that he falls out of his beach chair. Ippolito looks incredulously at Benny, only to realize what just transpired, cracking a few laughs as he says "Alright, I did just realize that the past minute, I sounded like a bona fide fanook (fag). Nah, your asshole's safe. If I wanted that, I'd commit a felony." Benny lets out a few laughs as Eddie returns to his lawn chair. Heaving a sigh of relief, Benny says "Those choice of words really had me worried there. Anyway, what's up?" Ippolito looks to the sky and says "Before it gets late. I want to play baseball with hand grenades." Benny blankly looks to his left and right, and then at Ippolito, saying "Pardon?" Ippolito shrugs his shoulders and smiles, saying "C'mon, just a few of them. I'm sure you got a few to spare." Benny cracks a few nervous laughs and says "That's extremely dangerous and stupid. I don't think Dutch would like it if the deck got damaged. So, no, I can't."

Looking into a video camera, Eddie, still as he was before, says in a Toronto accent "I'm Eddie Ventimiglia, and you are watching 'Stugots'." He immediately turns his camera toward Benny, holding an M26 hand grenade in his right hand. Lifting his left knee up as he prepares to pitch, Benny throws the grenade down the middle, the pin still attached. Squaring the ball up, Ippolito winds up and swings the bat, sending the grenade into the sky. The grenade travels thirty five meters away from the Lagoon, before landing safely into water, sinking into the Gulf of Tonkin. A wide, beaming grin on Ippolito's face, he turns to Benny, the latter's mouth agape and smiling in shock. Laughing while shuddering, Benny blurts out "I cannot believe we just did that!" Ippolito laughs and says "I was on the team in Rochester Institute of Technology. I played lead off."

Eddie presses a few buttons on the video camera and says "I got it. Marty and Freddy VIP are gonna shit their pants, ha!" Ippolito shakes his bat around and says "One more, without the pin." Benny laughs and waves Ippolito off, mumbling "Ah fuck you. Ha." Ippolito stretches his back and says "Ain't kidding." Benny lets out a nervous laugh and walks toward Ippolito, pointing his right index finger at him as he says "You fucking crazy, man. Like why?" Ippolito shrugs his shoulders and says "Hey, just one. And I'll be happy." Benny glares at Ippolito and says "Only because you played lead off in college."

Returning from a side door on the Lagoon, Benny nervously holds a M26 hand grenade in his right hand. He returns to his original pitching position, exhales a deep breath, and grasps tightly on the grenade's body and the spoon. He puts his left thumb through the ring and says "Ready?" Ippolito opens his mouth and slightly grins, showing teeth. He nods and says "Was born ready, Tampa boy. Can't wait until my Blue Jays shit on your brand new Tampa Devil Rays." Benny darts a dirty look at Ippolito and says "Are you sure you want to say that to me? I mean I'm holding a freaking hand grenade right now."

After another deep breath, Benny pulls the pin after a struggle and pitches the grenade to Ippolito. Ippolito swings the bat, only to miss the grenade and lose his grip on the bat, the bat falling into the water, as Benny and Eddie run to the bow of the Lagoon. Quickly reacting, Ippolito scoops the grenade up and pitches it away, the grenade sailing toward the water surface before exploding an inch above water. The grenade sprays shrapnel, harmlessly out of the Lagoons range, as the loud thump resonates through the three men. Returning to the stern, Benny asks "You okay?" Ippolito nods and gives Benny the thumbs up sign, as Eddie awkwardly mutters "Didn't get that on camera." The three stand in silence, mulling over the stupidity of what transpired. Exhaling another breath and swinging his arms together in a clapping motion, Benny says "NCAA baseball player, eh?" Ippolito laughs and says "Nah, intramural."

Seated in front of a kitchen table, Revy opens her mouth and allows Tuyết to stick a cotton ball into the space left by her missing tooth. Nodding at Tuyết, Revy reaches into her wallet and opens it. She flicks through a few 10s, 20s and 100s in American bills, as well as a few 50,000 Dong notes. Grimacing at Tuyết and extending four $100 American bills, she says "Sorry about the car. Here's $400. Ask Marty for another $400, out of my pay. That should cover the repairs." Tuyết exhales a sigh and says "Just give me $500 flat. I'll fix it myself. Why are you carrying so much money on you?" Revy pulls out another $100 bill and says "If anyone is going to take my wallet, it's going to be out of my dead fucking hands." Tuyết rolls her eyes, pockets the $500, and says "For as long as you do not break anything on my car ever again, I do not care. Do you want me to see if Rock is okay?" Revy snarls at the ground and says "Fuck him, I don't care. Psycho-emotional dipshit."

Suddenly, Ngoc steps into the kitchen, dressed in a black tank top and sky blue gym shorts, eating peaches out of a can with black, steel chopsticks, skewering the peaches with her chopsticks. Tuyết glares at Ngoc and says "We have forks in this country." Ngoc chews on a chunk of a peach, blankly staring at Tuyết as she mashes it in her mouth. Swallowing, Ngoc says "Vibol is too cheap to buy any." Ngoc turns to Revy and skewers another peach, saying "Rock told me you took out two of those agents by yourself alone. I'm impressed." Revy laughs sarcastically and says "Oh yea? Well maybe Rocky-boy and you can find a nice quiet room and GO FUCK YOURSELVES!" Ngoc glares at Revy in shock and musters out "What?" Revy waves Ngoc off and says "Whatever, leave me alone." Ngoc glares furiously at Revy, dumps her chopsticks into the can of peaches, and quietly turns her back to Revy, exiting the kitchen and coming face to face with the door to the outside on the left, a hallway on the right, and a staircase in front. She climbs up the staircase, muttering under her breath "Người Tàu (Chink)."

Arriving at the top of the stairs, she reaches a hallway with various doors on each side. On the 2nd door on the left, Ngoc peers in and finds Rock being given tended to by Vibol in the bathroom, the latter dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and black track pants. She looks ahead to find Branca heading out of a room, and approaches him.

Smiling, she whispers "Hey Jake, want to go someplace private?" Smirking Branca replies "This room here is empty." The two step into a bedroom, the bedroom empty aside from a pair of mattresses on the floor, the mattresses crudely covered with cheap, light blue bed sheets. Ngoc locks the door behind her as Branca removes his horrendous shirt, exposing his somewhat hairy chest. He drops the shirt on the ground as Ngoc removes her tank top and unbuttons her light grey bra. Her tank top and bra falling onto the ground, she brandishes her exposed breasts and pushes Branca onto the mattress, before jumping onto him herself. Removing her eyeglasses and setting them on the ground, she sinks into a hungry kiss, before moving toward the left side of Branca's neck. A smirking, horny look on her face, she stands on her knees and drops her gym shorts, revealing light pink, yellow, and light blue horizontally striped panties.

As Branca reaches over and pulls down on her panties, Ngoc bites her lip and says "When this shit is over, I'm taking you someplace nice and quiet for a while." Pulling Ngoc's breast towards his face, Branca says "You read my mind."

Dressed as he was earlier, Trí Vũ enters the bathroom, only to look in surprise as he says "Oh. Tôi nghĩ rằng phòng tắm trống là (I thought the bathroom is empty)." Vibol nods at Trí and says "Một vài phút (A few minutes)." Trí nods at Vibol and then turns to Rock, saying "Hey you. How it go?" Rock grimaces and shrugs his shoulders as Vibol places an ice pack on the back of Rock's neck. Pressing onward, Trí asks "Looks like you got action there. Got shot at?" Rock nods and says "The agents who picked Trung up, they are all dead, but they shot up Marty's car. Then three cops attacked us. We dealt with them. Then a couple other cops on the road. Then Revy drove us into a café. Then we got picked up. Then…then nothing."

Trí grimaces and says "Okay. Careful there, buddy." He heads down the stairs, turns around, and walks into a sparsely decorated living room. He spots a red leather couch and crawls onto it, sprawling himself out on it. He reaches toward a remote and points it at a small television set, turning on a music video station that is playing "Những Lời Dối Gian" by Tú Quyên. He stretches his back and yawns, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

"Does anyone got any soft food in this place?! Before I fucking starve to death!" Revy yells out from the kitchen as Trí jolts out of his slumber, mildly annoyed. He rubs his forehead and yells back "You have hands! Check the fridge!" He turns to the TV and notices that it is playing an advertisement for a soccer match between Đồng Tháp F.C. and Hà Nội T&T F.C. Climbing out of the sofa, Trí enters the kitchen to find Revy seated by the table as she was earlier, glaring furiously into space. He opens the fridge and pulls out a yellow and green can of canned sweet corn, a logo of a rising sun over a field covering the body of the can. He sets the can on the table, pulls a knife out of a cupboard, and places the knife on the can of corn. Looking a Revy with a blank look on his face, Trí says "Here. Have fun." Revy snarls at Trí and says "Oh yea? Maybe I'll shove this can up your ass. Bet that will be fun." Trí wags his right index finger at Revy and coldly says "Don't threaten me." Revy musters a "Hmph" and grabs the knife off the can. As Revy aims the point of the knife at the can, Trí calmly steps out of the kitchen and returns to his sofa, this time seated.

Tossing the lid on the ground, Revy sticks her hand into the moist can of sweet corn kernels, scooping up a handful and clutching them in her hand. She pulls the blood stained medical cotton ball out of her mouth and drops it on the table, stuffs the kernels into her mouth, and greedily chews them. Can of sweet corn in her left hand, she gets off her seat and walks toward the stairs. Heading to the top of the steps, she passes by Jake Branca, the latter with his clothes back on. Jake nods at Revy and says "Hey." Revy simply nods at Jake and stuffs another handful of corn into her mouth. Turning toward a door on the left, Revy opens the door to the bathroom, only to find it empty. Grimacing, Revy turns to a door on the right.

Opening the door, she spots Rock sitting on a mattress, drinking a cup of coffee from a white porcelain mug. As she opens the door further, she says "Rock, what the hell happened back…wait, WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING HERE?!" She spots Ngoc standing across from Rock, drinking a cup of coffee as well. Ngoc blankly glares at Revy and says "We are just having coffee." Revy smirks viciously and says "Oh yea? That's what they call it these days? And what's that smell? What the fuck, did you actually take me up on my suggestion, you fucking slut?! ROCK WHAT THE FUCK?!" Ngoc angrily points her right index finger at Revy and says "Shut the fuck up. Me and Jake are close. That's where the smell came from. I don't give a damn about your stupid boyfriend." Rock's eyes light up as he jumps off the mattress, yelling "Wait! You did it on this mattress?! You could have warned me!" Her eyes glued toward Ngoc, Revy extends her can holding left hand at Rock and says "Sit the fuck down, and shut the fuck up." Rock points at the mattress and yells "There are human fluids on it!" Revy grins even more viciously at Ngoc, continuing "Rock, if you don't fuck off now, I'm going to shove this can of corn down that hole on your dick where the piss comes out."

Placing his left hand on his forehead, Rock retreats a few steps and seats himself on the floor, muttering "What did I do now…wow I screwed up." "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Revy yells at Rock, before turning back toward a pissed off Ngoc. Grinding her teeth, Ngoc says "Get your 99 cent mug out of my face before I beat the plastic out of you." Revy glares at Ngoc and says "The fuck you yapping on about? 99 cents, plastic, I mean what the fuck! Those commie fucks allow ugly-ass mental patients to roam the streets here or something?!" Taking a sip of coffee, Ngoc angrily hisses under her breath "Leave me the fuck alone. Or I'll smash your face like it was made in China." Slamming the can of corn right in front of Ngoc's feet, Revy yells "I'M AN AMERICAN, YOU VIET FUCK!" Ngoc extends her right arm at Revy, cup of coffee in her right hand, and says "You think that's supposed to make me feel better?! You menstruating, toothless, yokel chink!"

Suddenly, Revy slaps the cup of coffee out of Ngoc's hands, the cup landing on a mattress, spilling coffee all over it. Immediately, Ngoc grabs Revy by her neck and starts to choke her. Revy quickly counters by kneeing Ngoc in the crotch, stunning her. She then grasps Ngoc by her hair with her left hand and by her chin with her right hand and runs forward, driving the back of Ngoc's head against the wall. She continues her onslaught, giving a sharp left hook across Ngoc's face, followed by a sharp right hook. As Revy attempts to slam Ngoc's head again into the wall, Ngoc plants her right foot against the wall behind her for leverage, as she places her hands into the left and right sides of Revy's mouth and pulls on it from opposite directions, attempting to tear Revy's mouth open. Rock immediately jumps into the fray and shoves Ngoc from the side, knocking her off balance. Ngoc immediately responds with a sharp swing of her right fist, connecting with Rock's nose, breaking it, sending Rock falling toward the door, landing on his back. Infuriated like a raging bull, Revy spears Ngoc into the wall, slams her right fist twice into Ngoc's stomach, and finishes by pulling Ngoc's head into Revy's right knee. Her right knee slams into Ngoc, busting open her lower lip, as she falls to the ground.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Branca yells, entering the room. He spots Ngoc lying on the ground, turns to Revy, and, pissed off, yells "You fucking bitch!" Branca charges Revy, only to get a kick to his left shin and a sharp right hook across his chin. Catching Branca by the back of his head, Revy slams him face first into the wall, busting open Branca's nose. As Branca joins Ngoc and Rock on the cold, wooden floor, Tuyết, Vibol, and Trí enter the room. Waving her hands up and down, Revy yells "Step right up you fucks. Step right up for the ass-kicking of a motherfucking lifetime! C'mon, try me you dipshits! Give it a shot!" The three remaining Vietnamese gangsters immediately swarm Revy and tackle her to the ground, restraining her. They lift Revy up, kicking and screaming, and carry her out of the room. Walking toward the open bathroom door, the three toss Revy into the bathroom and shut the door on her. Vibol and Trí hold the door shut as Revy attempts to push her way out of the bathroom. Tuyết returns to the room with the mattresses, only to verify that Rock, Ngoc, and Branca are all alive, if somewhat in pain. Tuyết returns to the bathroom door and yells "If you don't calm down, we will lock you in the trunk of my car! Stay there and shut up, you crazy bitch!" "FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR FUCKING FAMILIES! I'LL FUCKING KILL EVERYONE RIGHT NOW! EVERYONE! EVERYONE!" Revy yells out, in hysterics, ready bludgeon everyone in her path with nothing but her fists and her rage.

Sitting on opposite mattresses in the mattress room, Rock and Revy pensively look at the ground, Rock's nostrils filled with rolled up tissues. Revy climbs off her mattress, steps toward the door, and attempts to open it, to no success. She turns to Rock and coldly says "They put a chair under the knob." Rock grimaces and nods in response. Revy coldly stares at Rock and returns to her mattress, shifting her gaze to the wooden floor.

Situated on the sofa, with Ngoc and Jake on separate chairs, the latter with a bandage over his nose and the former with a few bandages on her face and an ice pack on the back of her head, and with Tuyết, Vibol, and Trí seated on the couch, the five gangsters glare at a telephone mounted above the sofa. Jake shrugs his shoulders and quietly says "It will be like putting down fucking animals. Rabies and shit. I think the bitch has them." Ngoc nods at Branca and says at the same volume "The piece of shit is rabies personified. I can't wait until I put a hole in her gut and watch her bleed to death. To think we would have to deal with scum like that after 1979 and the Quần Đảo Trường Sa (Spratly Islands)." Tuyết darts at Ngoc a tired, annoyed look, and says "Oh bạn sẽ vui lòng im lặng (Oh would you please shut up). You spent 1979 collecting government checks in Vinh, Ms. Phùng, so không nói như thế (do not talk like that)." Ngoc Phùng grinds her teeth and says "Yea, I wished I lived in the north, so I could have wrapped my hands around their necks." Tuyết shakes her head, feeling disturbed by Ngoc wishing that she was in another warzone. She closes her eyes and tries to let her mind drift away.

Suddenly, the mounted phone rings. Tuyết reaches up and pulls the phone off the mount, as the four remaining gangsters listen attentively. Tuyết puts the receiver to her ear and says "Yeah?" Marty, dressed as he was earlier, standing in a payphone on Nguyễn Trãi Street in Cam Ranh, with a small dockyard in the distance, says "Payphone me up. I'm waiting." The sky is a reddish orange hue as the sun sets on the horizon. Tuyết replies with "I'll be at one soon," and hangs up the phone. She turns to the four gangsters and says "I'll be back. He wants a payphone."

Standing outside a payphone near the 'Việt Nam Tươi Cà Phê (Vietnam Fresh Coffee)', Tuyết stares into a piece of scrap paper with a phone number on it, and dials the number. After a short pause, she hears Marty on the other end "I'm assuming that's you." Tuyết arcs her head back and says "Yes, it's me. Both Rock and Revy are in the safe house, as I already told you earlier over the phone. They crashed your Explorer into a café, than spotted us. We took them to the safe house. The girl is a complete degenerate. I seriously think that the bitch should consider heroin as a way to self-medicate. She broke the thing on top of my car seat, where I rest my head. She paid for that at least, but then she nearly beat Ngoc and Jake unconscious and had to be restrained. She suddenly went insane. It is becoming very tense in the safe house."

Marty nods to himself and asks "How's Ngoc and Jake? They okay?" Tuyết leans into the glass wall of the pay phone and closes her eyes, saying "Yes, they're fine." Marty nods once again and says "Okay, listen, and listen good. Tell Rock and Revy that their boss is fine. The bullet didn't break anything or cut anything serious, and it was safely pulled out and shit. The guy is just limping. Now the roads…stay in the safe house. Fucking pigs are setting a dragnet around the roads like there's an audition for the Village People. Tuấn called me and said that what you all did is now on international news. So yea, keep your head down for a bit, till the heat cools off. We'll cool off in Cam Ranh. Meet us there tomorrow. Try to make it before sundown. Give me a call when."

Tuyết rubs her nose and asks "And what about what you wanted us to do about Rock and Revy? Should we proceed with the plan you gave us?" Marty sighs and asks "Did you see that bitch talk with her boss on the cell phone?" Tuyết raises an eyebrow and replies "Not…really. Why?" Marty grimaces and looks up, his cheeks puffing up. He says "Well, I did, well, the other way around. He called Revy and found out that both are fine. So no shit, we can't proceed with the plan, because the plan is fucked to shit. Whatever, I'll just pay the fucks what's owed and call it a day. This is making it more complicated than it has to be." Tuyết nods to herself and says "I understand. I'll relay the news to the rest of them. Hopefully Ngoc and Jake do not do anything stupid."

Returning to the safe house, Tuyết locks the door behind her and approaches the four, the latter still at their seats. She huddles around them and quietly says "The roads are under heavy surveillance. We have to wait until tomorrow." Ngoc nudges her head at Tuyết and asks "And those assholes upstairs?" Tuyết shakes her head and says "Not going to happen." As Tuyết continues and says "Plan doesn't work any…" Ngoc ignores Tuyết and proceeds to the staircase, saying "Tôi đi tiểu trên các kế hoạch (I piss on the plan)." Tuyết immediately grabs Ngoc by her right shoulder, turns her until they become face to face, and tightly grabs Ngoc by Ngoc's chin with her right hand. She then curls her left hand into a fist and hovers it in front of Ngoc's face, glaring furiously at Ngoc, appearing to be debating on whether or not to punch her. Suddenly, Branca pulls Tuyết off Ngoc and says "Take it easy."

Tuyết glares at Branca, and then at a slightly terrified Ngoc, and yells out "Bạn là tất cả tự nhiên ngày ngu ngốc, hoặc điều này cho một dịp đặc biệt (You all naturally stupid, or is this for a special occasion)?! Có ai nhận ra rằng chúng ta có hàng triệu đô la bị đe dọa (Does anyone realize that we have millions of dollars at stake)?! Tiền của chúng tôi (Our money)?! Bạn sẽ ném tất cả những gì đi (You will throw all that away)?! Tôi có nghĩa là cái quái (I mean what the hell)! I didn't go through three fucking wars just to sell jewelry and hash to tourists in FUCKING NHA TRANG! And I don't want to hear no more about fucking China, alright! I'm fucking tired of being reminded of it, Ngoc! You think I enjoy being reminded of how my parents got their brains shot out by those shit eaters in Peking?! If the word China or 1979 or the Spratlys or whatever the fuck…gets spoken within a 5 meter radius of the space around me, I'm going to rip out someone's fucking eye out! Now you! Ngoc! And you too Jake! I don't want to see you in the same room with our guests again! I don't care what happened! If something like that happens again, I'm going to assume it's the fault of either of you. And we will have a problem. Buddha give me strength, we will have a serious problem. I fucking swear, I will beat on you until my hands develop arthritis!"

Ngoc grimaces and nods at Branca. Branca scratches the back of his neck and says "Okay, we'll lay off." Ngoc grimaces once again and says "Sorry." Tuyết clenches her fists and raises them in the air, ready to slam them onto a table. Lowering her arms, she yells "I don't want your apologies! And I shouldn't have to be repeating myself! When I say something to you, to any of you, it becomes law! Am I clear?! Good! Now get out of my way!" Tuyết exhales a sigh and storms up the stairs. Reaching the top, she approaches a door with a chair leaning against it. She removes the chair and knocks on the door, saying "You calmed down over there? I'm letting you out. If you are in the same room with Ngoc and Jake, I expect you to get out of the way immediately."

After hearing silence for a minute, Tuyết draws a CZ-75 from a holster on her right leg, hidden under her track pants. She carefully opens the door and peers inside, CZ-75 in her right hand. She spots Rock and Revy on the same mattresses as they were on earlier, both in complete silence. The two look up as Tuyết says "Your boss is fine. Minor wound, no bone damage. He is just limping a little. The police have set up surveillance on the roads, however, so you two are sleeping over. To prevent any more problems, you two will sleep in the attic. It was cleaned out three days ago, don't worry. I will bring up a mattress, two pillows, and some clean bed sheets. It is not excellent, I know, but I am not running a hotel. Do you want a smoke?"

Revy turns to Rock, grimaces, and forces a meek smile, saying "Yea." Rock nods and says "I'll have one." Tuyết holsters her CZ-75 back where it used to be and pulls out a gold pack of Vinataba unfiltered cigarettes. She pulls out three cigarettes, and then hands two to Revy. Rock climbs out of his mattress and approaches Revy, taking one of her two cigarettes. He mutters "Thanks" and places the cigarette in his mouth. Tuyết pockets her pack of Vinatabas and pulls out a lighter. She lights her own cigarette, then Revy's, and lastly Rock's. The three proceed to smoke as Rock asks "You fought in three wars? Sorry if I'm intruding." Tuyết nods and says "The Civil War, the war in Cambodia, and the defense against the Chinese invasion in '79." Rock grimaces and nods, saying "You seen a lot of violence." Tuyết blankly nods and says "I lost my parents in the Chinese invasion." Revy takes a drag of her cigarette and melancholically blurts out "I lost my mom to a heroin overdose when I was still a toddler." Tuyết grimaces and asks "And your father?" Revy takes another drag of her cigarette and forces a weak smile Exhaling, she says "These cigarettes are pretty fucking harsh. What are they, budget cigs?"

"What happened to your father?" Tuyết presses further, curious. Widening her eyes and raising both of her eyebrows, Revy exhales once again and says "My father used me as a pickpocket and burglar to fund his liquor and smack habit. Eventually I got the shit beaten out of my by two cops in Manhattan, who then tossed me into a precinct lock-up. There, this third scumbag cop pinned down a certain fifteen year old girl…pulled down her underpants…and I don't want to say anymore. I think you got the picture." Tuyết frowns and exhales smoke from her cigarette. Taking her cue, she stops pressing Revy about her father. Suddenly, Revy continues "I got released when no evidence stuck. I then picked up some money I stashed for myself, bought a gun, pulled a pillow over my dad's head while he was in a drunk daze, and painted the bed red."

Tuyết takes a step back, her eyes widen in shock. She glares uncomfortably at Revy and says "I…see." Tuyết turns to Rock and says "And anything you want to say?" Rock shakes his head and says "No…at least not now." Revy darts a pained look at Rock, before returning to her cigarette. The three proceed to smoke in silence, as the sun sets in the distant horizon, and the windows turn from a blood-orange hue to pitch-black darkness.

Flushing the toilet, Rock approaches the sink, dressed in nothing but red and black plaid boxers. He turns on the faucet and washes his hands, letting warm water run through his fingers. A few drops spray onto his taped up chest. He approaches a hand soap dispenser and pushes on its top, only to get nothing. Washing his hands without soap, he kneels down and opens a cabinet under the sink. He stares at the contents of the sink curiously, his curiosity slowly replaced with horror and an accelerated heart beat.

Rubbing his eyes, Rock leans forward and surveys a pair of beige carpets folded and rolled up under the sink. Stuffed into the cabinet, along with the carpets, is a few rolls of plastic stretch wrap. Exiting the bathroom, he walks up a new set of steps that have been lowered onto the hallway from the roof. Reaching the top, he pulls the steps back up. Right before he seals the steps, Rock grabs a piece of rope hanging on the bottom of the steps and pulls it up with the rest of the steps, making it impossible for anyone to enter the attic from the hallway. Rock then turns toward an old, unplugged TV set, lifts it up, and quietly places the TV set over the steps, as added security.

Rising from bed, dressed in only her black bra and her black thong, Revy asks "Rock, what the fuck are you doing?" Rock places his right index finger to his lips and says "Shh." His arms on the back of his head, Rock mutters "We are screwed. Oh man we are screwed." He approaches their bed in the sparsely decorated attic and whispers "I think they are going to kill us." Revy glares at Rock with a perplexed look on her face and whispers "What? The fuck you talking about?" Rock nods and whispers "Two carpets and plastic wrap, under the sink. Not in the closet or in the garage, but under the sink. In the cabinet. In a bathroom. Where it's easy to wash blood." Revy places her hands on her face and mutters "Oh fuck." Looking upset, she turns on her side, facing away from Rock, and says "You know what? I don't care anymore." Glaring at Revy, Rock whispers "I'm sorry about earlier. I lost my mind, I was angry, I was upset. Revy, we are in danger here!" Revy laughs and says "We are in danger on a daily basis. Goodnight." "Revy…" Rock mutters, watching as Revy shuts her eyes. Rock shakes his head and joins her in bed, his eyes glued at the TV set blocking the entrance.

He shakes Revy's left shoulder and asks "What are we going to do?" Revy forces a week smile and asks "Did you pull up the stairs? Did you hide the rope from their reach? Did you seal it?" Rock nods and says "Yes to everything." Revy smirks and says "Then sleep Rocky-boy. It might be our last." Rock glares at Revy and says "You are freaking me out. I understood your hysterics earlier, but this passiveness is scaring me. Revy, I am so, so sorry for saying that to you. Please, snap out of it. There are crocodiles in the house. Please..." Revy rolls onto her left shoulder and comes face to face with Rock. She lets out a muffled laugh and whispers "I thought you wanted me to let you mind your own ass." Rock frowns at Revy, distressed, and mutters "Revy…" Suddenly, Revy leans forward and locks her lips with Rocks, pulling on the back of his head, causing Rock to wince in pain, due to his sprained neck. Out of nowhere, she drives her right fist into Rock's stomach, stunning him. Smiling and satisfied with herself, she rolls onto her back and closes her eyes, saying "Goodnight."

Rolling onto his own back, and still stunned by the punch, Rock exhales a few breathes. His heart rate accelerating once again, Rock closes his eyes and clenches tightly on his blanket, terrified as to whether he will live to see tomorrow. A frog croaks in the distance, as an owl hoots on a nearby tree, while the shroud of darkness lulls Rock and Revy into slumber.

* * *

 **AN:** Chapter ended up a lot longer than I originally expected it to be. Nevertheless, enjoy.


	8. Channeling Takeshi Kitano

A splash of water across his face, Rock, wearing nothing but his red and black plaid boxers and white socks, rubs his cheeks and eyes in front of the sink. He lets his right knee run the length of the cabinet under the sink. Spotting a tube of toothpaste, Rock sighs and squeezes a little toothpaste on the tips of the index and middle fingers of his right hand. He then takes a gulf of water, rinses, and spits, before using his two fingers as a crude toothbrush.

Spitting once more into the sink and splashing water on his face, Rock turns to a towel rack and pulls off a white towel adorned in purple rose petal designs. He wipes his face and turns to his beige shorts and Jai Yen Yen shirt. After getting dressed, Rock rubs his forehead and slowly opens the door to the hallway, feeling as if he is being watched from every angle. He reaches the stairs and heads down them, faking a smile as he nods at Trí Vũ and Vibol, the latter two seated on the sofas, dressed as they were yesterday, with Trí wearing the crane and pond designed purple and red t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and Vibol wearing a sleeveless white shirt and black track pants. Trí Vũ and Vibol each watch a friendly soccer game on TV between the Vietnamese national football team and the Philippine national football team, both sipping from cans of Hanoi Beer.

Turning left while in front of the living room and the kitchen, Rock heads down a dark corridor and reaches a door at the end. Turning a knob, he exits onto a backyard, walking on grass, wearing only his socks. A tree grows in the back of the backyard, the branches encroaching on the neighbor's property. A wooden picket fence closes off the backyard, as the Toyota Corolla stays parked on the left, its rear hidden in the driveway. Standing in from of the tree, Revy, dressed in her black tank top, corduroy shorts, and boots, smokes a cigarette and stares pensively at the tree. Approaching her, Rock whispers "Have you thought about what we are going to do?" Revy does not immediately respond. She takes a drag on her cigarette and exhales. Tapping her right foot against the tree and soaking in the early afternoon sun, Revy whispers "We need to make up a reason for us wanting our guns on us. Tuyết is not going to give me my Cutlasses given everything that happened yesterday. Unless we could make up a good reason. Got to make them think they are still in control and that we don't know. Hmm…I could say that I want to check my Cutlasses for scratch marks and shit. Same with you. Do it under her supervision."

"Are we going to shoot her then?" Rock inquires, whispering. Revy grimaces and whispers "I don't know. We fuck up, Marty's gonna kill Dutch and Benny." Rock frowns and whispers "I forgot about that." Revy finally turns to face Rock and whispers "I checked under the cabinet. It looks bad. Don't mean they want to clip us. I mean…I don't care much for those assholes in the house…but if we make a mistake, Dutch and Benny are done because we screwed up." Rock motions at Revy's cigarette, to which Revy responds by pulling out a pack of Natural American Spirit. She pulls a cigarette out of the half empty pack and hands it to Rock. Revy then pulls her cigarette out of her mouth and uses it light Rock's, the latter holding it in his mouth. Rock nods and takes a drag. Exhaling, he says "Thank you. I'm thinking about this. If they haven't attempted to kill us now…maybe…Revy, call Dutch now." Revy raises an eyebrow and asks "Why?" Rock grimaces and says "Fine, I'll call him." He pulls out his cell phone and presses a few buttons. Putting the cell phone to his ear, Rock says "I hope he picks up. My SIM card is on its last two minutes."

Suddenly, he hear Dutch groan on the other end "Yeah? Rock?" Seated in the living room quarters of the Lagoon, wearing a white sleeveless shirt and black track pants, a plate of pancakes in front of him on a coffee table, Dutch drops his fork on the plate. In the nearby kitchen, Benny, dressed in his old, purple, FSU Seminoles t-shirt and grey sweat pants, peers out of the kitchen and listens on. Swallowing his saliva, Rock replies "Yes, it's Rock. I am almost out of minutes on my SIM card and I have to make this quick. While I was in the bathroom in the safe house, I found two carpets and that thick type of plastic wrap that you use when shipping boxes. Hidden under the sink. Did Marty act strange around you?"

Dutch places his left hand on his face and bellows "Oh hell." Looking up and arcing back his head, Dutch says "Marty tried to keep me from calling you two yesterday. Besides that, no. I found that a little bizarre. Did those Vietnamese people act weird around you?" Rock turns to Revy and forces a smile, saying "Revy got into a fight with Ngoc and that Branca person, but that was unrelated. Tuyết locked the two of us in a room for a long while. Then suddenly, she showed up and her tone slightly changed. It sounded like she left the house and then came back. I am not sure what is going on, but watch your back, boss." Dutch nods and says "I always watch my back. You watch yours. By the way, my leg is fine. Thanks for asking." Rock smirks and says "I know it takes more than that to knock you out of the ring." Dutch laughs and says "It still hurts like a bitch. Maybe you should try it." Rock's smile grows, only to be replaced by a stern look as he says "I'm onto my last minute. Warn Benny as well." Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "He is right here. Stay safe, you're 'supposed' to be driven here sometime today. See ya."

Hanging up his phone, Dutch turns to Benny and says "We have…an issue to watch out for."

Marty, dressed in blue jeans and an orange t-shirt that says in dark red lettering "5th Annual Fraser River Port Authority Chili Eating Champion", speaks to a receiver by a payphone on Nguyễn Trãi Street, in Cam Ranh. He says "You said 6 P.M. is a good time, Tuyết? Okay, got it, just making sure. Gonna have Mr. T take us on his boat, go out to sea before some dock cunt gets suspicious. We'll be back round…5ish. Cam Ranh, yea. One of the docks by Nguyễn Trãi Street. Alright? Take it easy." Hanging up the phone, Marty pulls out a phone card and dials a second phone number. Waiting for a bit, he says "Hiếu Văn Phạm? It's me. Payphone again."

Dressed in his dark green military uniform and dark green military cap, Hiếu Văn Phạm places a pay phone's receiver to his right ear and taps his right foot against the ground. After a pause, he hears Marty say "You like Speedy Gonzalez or some shit." Yawning, Hiếu asks "Now what it is this time?" Marty rotates his right shoulder, stretching it, and says "We got Trung tied up on the boat. He hasn't said a peep, scared shitless and all. Chained. You been following the news?" Hiếu blankly replies "Sharp as an eraser. Of course I have been following the news. I have been listening closely…an East Asian male in his late 20s and an East Asian female with dyed maroon hair in her mid-20s. A dead civilian. A row of greenhouse destroyed. Oh, and one coffee shop demolished. Other than that, nothing of note." Marty rolls his eyes and asks "Alright wiseass, did you hear anything about me? Or a Ford Taurus?"

Hiếu grimaces for a bit, and then says "Yes, I have. The dead civilian's car. Police are searching for it. I assume it has been disposed of, correct?" Marty nods to himself and says "Yeah, I ain't stunatz (dense). What of the Ford Explorer?" Hiếu blinks and answers "Total loss. They will comb through it for evidence and then scrap it. I highly doubt that they would find anything linking you. Perhaps the mercenaries. Which leads me to my question, what of them?" Marty shakes his head to himself and says "Couldn't do it. Their boss called and checked up on them before we could do something about it. They are now at the safe house that I mentioned to you earlier. We are receiving them today, in the evening. My advice Hiếu, let it be. It's making things too complicated…they ain't locals here. No connection to you, almost no connection to me."

Hiếu twitches and frowns, staring out of the phone booth at a Vietnamese couple pushing a baby carriage across the street. Returning to Marty, he says "I will take that under advisement." Marty raises an eyebrow and asks "Under advisement? The fuck you mean by that?" Hiếu replies in a slightly annoyed tone "It is, what it is. Consider this matter dropped." Marty's eyes widen, as he says "Wait, hold on a second. Are you going to do something fucking crazy?!" Hiếu blankly replies "That is in violation of my general personality and demeanor. Now leave this be. I have news about that boat you encountered at sea. The one that was chased by the Philippine Navy."

Marty's eyes light up as he says "Go on, I'm listening." Hiếu cracks a relieved smile and says "They were apprehended in Rạch Giá by my other hired help. They quietly sequestered them aside into a private shack, far from anyone else, kept under alternating watch by our associates in the police department and my hired help. All four are foreign nationals, all male. A Laotian and three Eastern Europeans. None of them spoke a word when we were in their presence." Marty places his left hand on his forehead and mutters "Eastern Europeans? What the fuck?! Where did they crawl out from? How you catch them?"

Hiếu grimaces and says "They were living in that dilapidated shack. Their boat was nearby. On the coast outside the city. Next to a small dock that was falling apart. Thai bhat was found in their pockets. Besides that, I have nothing to offer. Verbal interrogation has failed. We are contemplating using truth serums and alcohol to loosen their tongues." Marty glares blankly at the floor, his mind racing. After a long pause, during which Hiếu mutters "You still there?", Marty sighs and looks at the clear blue sky. He says "Yeah, we'll sort through that later. I gotta take a leak. Uh…I...okay. See ya." Hanging up the phone, Marty exhales a deep breath. He scratches his back and pulls out his cell phone. Turning to a number in the address book that is called 'FREDVIP', Marty grimaces and forces a smile. He laughs and says to himself "Ehh, what are the odds of that happening? Nah…"

Still standing in the phone booth, Hiếu leans against the glass walls with his back and crosses his arms, in deep thought. He watches the occasional moped and truck speed through the street. In the distance, he overhears the faint sound of gunfire, most certainly soldiers at a firing range. Pulling out a pack of Craven A's, Hiếu reaches inside the pack, only to stop. A mild smile materializing on his face, Hiếu sets the pack of Craven A's on top of the pay phone and reaches into a rear pants pocket. Pulling out a light grey leather wallet, he reaches into a slot where his driver's license is, and pulls it out, revealing a piece of scrap paper. He pulls out the scrap paper, pockets his wallet and license, and then unravels the paper, revealing a phone number.

Dialing the number, Hiếu waits patiently for a response. Suddenly, Hiếu hears "Vâng (Well)? Ông chủ (Boss)?" Hiếu leans forward and says "Tôi có một công việc cho bạn (I have a job for you)." On the other end of the line, standing in an alleyway outside a bar in Saigon, a somewhat tall dark-skinned Cambodian man listens into a disposable cell phone. He is sporting bushy black hair, a thin moustache, a small, untrimmed beard around his chin, and minor wrinkles, in his late 40s. He is dressed in an unbuttoned black leather jacket, a blood red undershirt, dark grey jeans, and black leather boots. Twirling a cigarette with his left hand, the Cambodian says "Việc chuyển tiền cho các công việc cuối cùng đã không đi qua (The money transfer for the last job did not go through)." Hiếu sighs and says "Nó sẽ đi qua (It will go through). Hãy kiên nhẫn (Please be patient)."

Grimacing at the sky, the Cambodian man asks "Bao nhiêu (How much)?" Công việc là gì (What is the job)?" Hiếu pauses for a bit, and then says "Thị trấn trên đường cao tốc giữa Cam Ranh, Phan Rang, Đà Lạt (The town on the highway between Cam Ranh, Phan Rang, and Đà Lạt). Căn nhà có bảy người (A house with seven people). Tập hợp bạn bè của bạn (Gather your friends). Bảy mươi lăm lớn (Seventy-five large). Thongvan, bạn có đồng ý (Thongvan, are you in agreement)?" Thongvan tosses the cigarette away and hurriedly asks "Bạn có yêu cầu tôi để giết chúng (You asking me to kill them)?" "Không, tôi yêu cầu bạn mua cà phê cho họ (No, I'm asking you to buy them coffee)," Hiếu sarcastically replies. Thongvan ponders for a bit, and then says "Tôi muốn tiền từ công việc cuối cùng (I want the money from the last job). Tôi cũng muốn hai mươi lăm lớn, trả trước (I also want twenty-five large, upfront)." "Không có thời gian (No time)! Họ rời khỏi nhà vào buổi tối (They leave the house in the evening)!" Hiếu exclaims, slightly on edge.

Spitting at a nearby dumpster, Thongvan says "Tôi có đánh bạc nợ để trả hết (I have gambling debts to pay off)." Shaking his head and relenting, Hiếu says "Tôi sẽ làm điều đó ngay bây giờ (I will do that right now). Tôi sẽ cho bạn biết chính xác địa chỉ trong nửa giờ (I will let you know the exact address in half an hour). Trong khi đó, nhanh lên (Meanwhile, hurry up). Gọi cho bạn bè và phía bắc đầu (Call your friends and head north)." Trongvan smirks and says "Họ la ở đây (They are here)."

Dressed in a dark green sports jacket, an orange colored dress shirt tucked into a set of black trousers held up by a brown belt, and dark brown dress shoes, Raymond Takahashi steps onto the outdoor balcony of a restaurant, his black and white diamond patterned tie flowing in the breeze. He approaches a grey railing and stares at an armada of yachts and speed boats anchored right next to the restaurant. A gentle ocean breeze tickles his cheeks as he adjusts his glasses and turns left, facing a dining table with four white plastic seats. The dining table is draped in red tablecloth and has four wine glasses, four forks and knives on napkins, and four menus on the table. Exiting onto the balcony through a sliding glass door, Kaimana Satele, dressed in a grey sports jacket, a white dress shirt tucked into a set of grey trousers held up by a beige canvas belt, and black dress shoes, stands next to Takahashi and places his arms on the railing, saying "Songxie and Laurent ain't coming."

"I know. Tong is ill with a stomach virus and Reynolds is in talks with the man from Sichuan. It is of no concern to me," Takahashi calmly replies, a blank look on his face. Satele rubs his recently shaven chin and asks "You ever went fishing in Maui?" Takahashi shakes his head and says "42 years old, lived in Hawai'i my entire life, and the only islands I've visited were O'ahu, the big island, and Kaua'i." Satele opens his mouth his shock, turns to Takahashi, and says "Seriously? You have to kidding me! The deep sea fishing off of Maui…it's isolated…and the fish that you could snag! Once…me, my dad, and two of his brahs took a fishing boat like a dozen miles northwest of Kahului. After four hours of catching small ones, I snagged a 367 pound swordfish. The four of us managed to haul it in, we were eating swordfish for more than a week. Got me into fishing…still never caught anything like that again."

Takahashi shakes his head and says "I tried fishing a couple of times. Didn't enjoy it. Doesn't interest me at all." Satele laughs and says "It's a niche." Takahashi nods in agreement as a pale white Western European looking man steps onto the balcony, sporting somewhat long hazel hair tied into a ponytail, dressed in a beige sports jacket, a brown and white pinstriped dress shirt tucked into a pair of dark brown slacks, and black dress shoes. He approaches the two and says in a California accent "Boss! Kaimana! I just got here." Pointing toward the streets, he continues "I think I saw the Russian on the way here."

Satele nods at the man and says "Hey Malcolm. How's the lady friend?" Malcolm nods back at Satele and says "She's good. It was her birthday yesterday, so I got her one of those new gizmos, DVD players I think they are called." Satele lightly points his right index finger at Malcolm and says "Look at you with the Santa Claus routine. I heard those cost like a grand each." Takahashi snaps his fingers and says "Listen and understand, Mr. Haley. Mr. Satele and I will conduct negotiations with Yong-sun Baek and his advisor, whoever he may be. This restaurant is owned by an associate of Chang's, and he is somewhere on the premises. Do not be surprised if you see him. As Mr. Tong already briefed you, the Russian…Boris I believe is his name…Balalaika's second in command…he will be the arbitrator in this discussion. When discussions start, I want you to be standing up and at my side, ready to assist me with anything. If you need to use the restroom during the talks, then you have to patient. Make sure to go before. Is this perfectly understandable?"

Malcolm Haley nods and says "Yea, of course boss. I understand." Takahashi nods and says "Good. These talks are important. I wish to avoid an all out war. So do not humiliate me. That goes for you as well, Mr. Satele." Satele nods and solemnly says "Yes boss." Malcolm peers back inside the restaurant and says "Are we waiting for anyone else from our camp?"

Suddenly, a 50 something year old Japanese man with black, slightly square shaped hair, a thick moustache, and wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks, dressed in a light grey sports jacket, a green dress shirt tucked into a pair of brown slacks, and dark brown dress shoes, steps onto the balcony, slightly sweating from his forehead. Takahashi turns to the Japanese man and says "Mr. Sakamoto. Did you run here? Why for? We start in an hour. What is it?" As the man pauses to catch his breath, he casually raises his right hand in acknowledgement at Satele and Haley. Satele nods and says "Take it easy Norio. What's up?"

Norio Sakamoto calms himself down, scans the area around him, and approaches the three, lowering his head. Speaking in Japanese, he asks "Kimuchi yarō (Kimchi bastards), karera wa mada tohchaku shimashita ka (did they arrive yet)?" Takahashi raises an eyebrow and asks "Err, my Japanese is not so good. I think you know that. What did you say?" Sakamoto wipes sweat off his forehead and says in Japanese-accented English "The Koreans. Did they arrive yet?" Takahashi shakes his head and says "No, why?" Sakamoto places his right hand on his mouth, looks to the side, lowers his right hand, and says "Apuna called me. He said that there has been this grey sedan parked on Songxie's parking space in front of the factory, with a few people inside. When Kawika went to get the car moved, he told Apuna that a few men were inside the sedan. Kawika got them to leave, but they just parked a block away. Have been there since. Kawika thinks that they were speaking to each other in Korean, and he says that he may have caught the glint of a pistol. And then Steven gave me a call saying that two Asian men sat down on a bench in front of the docks and have been staring at the docks for an hour already."

Satele glares at Sakamoto and asks "Are you serious? That's what Jimmy and Stevie been saying?" Sakamoto extends his arms and indignantly replies "Am I speaking in pidgin here?!" Suddenly, Takahashi reaches into his right trouser pocket, pulls out a blue cell phone, and speaks into it "Raymond Takahashi here. Wait. Excuse me? Mr. Sakamoto just told me that the same is happening at the docks and in front of the factory. Listen Wei…please remain calm. Do not draw any attention to yourself. Do not call the factory or the docks for support. Call Kaeo and ask her to send one of her men. I will work out a price with her. If anyone else calls you from the other stores, tell them to call Kaeo. Remember…remain calm. Stay safe."

Takahashi hangs up the phone and shakes his head in displeasure. Mildly angry, he says "I feel as if I have just been insulted. Very rude." He returns his attention to his phone and surfs through the phone's address book. He presses a button and puts the phone to his head, waiting patiently. "Songxie, it is me. Takahashi," Takahashi calmly says.

Driving his Chevy Tahoe across an intersection, the cell phone wedged between his head and his right shoulder, Songxie, dressed in a sleeveless purple shirt and black track pants, replies "Yea! I know I know. Some assholes took my parking space. I am going to…" Songxie suddenly sneezes all over the wheel and blurts out "Fuck! I am going to fuck them up!" Takahashi shakes his head and says "Listen. Kawika 'moved' them to a different street. They are associates of some friends that I am going to meet with. From the R.O.K. There are similar situations at our docks and at the small store. I already told Wei to send in some of Kaeo's associates. The Koreans have not arrived yet. These squatters are just running surveillance on us."

Songxie raises an eyebrow and yells "What?! Oh fuck…they are sneaky. I give them that. Did the Koreans arrive yet?" Takahashi places his left hand on his forehead and says "I just said that they haven't arrived. Listen Mr. Tong…do NOT make a scene. Contact the main store, not Wei's, and warn Ms. Binayas. Close the bakery and confectionary store down, Binayas' store, and fortify it. Call Reynolds and send him to protect the place, or have him divert some of the men in transport security. Either that or ask Mongkut or Kaeo or Kamol to spare some of their associates."

Songxie sneezes once again and yells "I hate this shitty flu! And Ms. Binayas? Karen hasn't contacted you? Strange…maybe she doesn't recognize any squatters. Can Norio spare some men from the docks?" Takahashi growls under his breath and says "Mr. Sakamoto is right here. I told you clearly that I am going to this meeting with the manager of production at the bread factory, the manager of production at the sweets factory, and the manager of shipping. As in, Mr. Satele, Mr. Haley, and Mr. Sakamoto. I told you this twice yesterday, and you didn't pay attention. You never pay attention. No, he cannot spare any men because they are under surveillance. I am trying to prevent a disaster here, and I rather not make any sudden movements."

Taking a right turn across an intersection, almost striking a 60 something year old Indonesian woman carrying groceries, Songxie sighs and replies "Ray…just because we are friendly with police doesn't mean we should announce job titles over the phone. Whatever, I'm going to check on Karen. If something happens, I'm going to call twice in row. So keep phone on vibrate, not off. And good luck." Takahashi nods to himself and says "You as well, Mr. Tong. Be alert." Takahashi hangs up the phone and says "Songxie was enroute to do battle with the Koreans in front of the factory. Disaster averted…"

Sakamoto laughs and says "Did you hear about how he's been using Rosetta Stone?" Satele and Haley burst out into laughter as Takahashi restrains a smile. Still laughing, Satele replies "I'm sure he is fluent in whatever the fuck he normally speaks." Sakamoto smirks and says "You mean scotch? That's what he speaks. The only reason his Cantonese is slightly better is because imports with labels in English are more expensive in Hong Kong. Seriously, I never saw anyone as stupid and belligerent as he is. The man is like a cross between Mr. Magoo and a hemorrhoid." Satele and Haley both return to hysteric laughter as Takahashi lets out a chuckle. Haley claps to himself in amusement as Takahashi, smiling, says "Hey, he is my friend. I like to know that I do not get the same treatment when I'm not around." Satele and Haley immediately cease laughing, growing sterns looks on their face, as Sakamoto nervously says "Of course not." Takahashi stares blankly at Sakamoto and says "Good."

Suddenly, a tall Russian man with short black hair and a scar across his face, dressed in a dark grey blazer, a reddish-orange dress shirt tucked into a set of black trousers held up by a black, leather belt with a stainless steel buckle, and dark brown dress shoes, steps onto the balcony. The Russian, Boris, looks at everyone with a stern look on his face and nods at everyone. He extends his hand toward Takahashi, who reciprocates. The two shake hands, followed by Boris and Malcolm, Boris and Norio, and lastly Boris and Kaimana. After a short pause, Boris says "Mr. Chang told me that Mr. Baek and his entourage are two streets away. I need to make a quick phone call. By the way, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Takahashi."

Takahashi nods at Boris and says "The pleasure is mine…Mr.…Mr.…" Boris cracks a weak smile and says "Melamud. Boris Vladislavovich Melamud." Takahashi pauses, tries to collect his thoughts, and says "A pleasure, Mr. Malamud." Boris shakes his head and says "No, it is Melamud. Mela, as in Melanesia or melatonin. Mud, as in 'I am in a good mood'." Takahashi thinks to himself for a second and says "Okay, thank you Mr. Melamud." Boris blinks and says "Now, I will excuse myself."

As Boris exits the balcony, Haley blurts out "Guy's a bit cagey. Why the fuck is Balalaika's number two arbitrating?" Takahashi turns to Haley and blankly says "It was a compromise with Mr. Baek. I picked the location, he picked the arbitrator. Naturally, I picked someplace safe that is owned by an ally. As in, this Singaporean restaurant, which is Triad property. Mr. Baek chose Hotel Moscow to arbitrate, which was originally supposed to be Ms. Balalaika, but she delegated the assignment to Mr.…Melamud. By, the way, Mr. Haley. Make sure to notify Mr. Sakamoto about your instructions, as they apply to him as well. I am going to the restroom."

Haley nods in understanding as Takahashi exits. Sakamoto turns to Haley and says "What's up?" As Haley begins to explain the instructions to Mr. Sakamoto, two Korean men, a Korean woman, and a Thai man enter the balcony. Haley lowers his voice as he, Satele, and Sakamoto dart dirty looks at the entourage, headed by a tall, muscular, 40-something year old Korean man with short black hair combed forward, a faded moustache, a cleft chin, a round face, and a five 0'clock shadow, dressed in a navy blazer, a dark green dress shirt tucked into a set of black slacks held up by a black leather belt, and dark blue dress shoes. He is followed by a slightly overweight Korean woman in her late 30s, sporting short, dark brown hair, and wearing a light brown buttoned sports jacket, a white undershirt, light brown pants, and black, short heeled shoes. The man in the blazer and the woman both sit down on the seats furthest away from Takahashi's associates. Shortly afterwards, a short, clean shaven Korean man with black hair combed to the left, dressed in a pinstripe black and sky blue dress shirt, black slacks, and dark blue dress shoes, and a bald Thai man with a faded moustache and a thick, black goatee, dressed in plaid blue and white dress shirt, beige slacks, and brown dress shoes, each sit down on the remaining two chairs. The four seated gangsters dart cold stares at Takahashi's associates, before ignoring them and conversing to each other in alternating Korean and English.

Sakamoto nudges Haley and says "I think they are in Ray's and Kaimana's seats." As Haley prepares to say something, Mr. Chang, dressed in his trademark trench coat and tie attire, his sunglasses hanging on his shirt collar, steps onto the balcony, stares at Takahashi's entourage, then at Baek's entourage, and lastly at his shoes, sighing and shaking his head. He turns around and yells in Mandarin "Xiang! Gěi wǒ yī zhāng zhuōzi hé wǔ bǎ yǐzi (Get me a table and five chairs)!"

Seated down at a table opposite from the Korean gangsters, clockwise with Boris's back facing the Koreans, Boris, Sakamoto, Takahashi, Haley, and Satele pour over their menus. Haley points at Satele's menu and says "Hey check it out. 'Singapore Surf and Turf.' That's sounds like what I'm gonna get." Satele glares a bemused look at Haley and says "I can read, Malcolm. I passed Junior High. I'm not Songxie." Takahashi, Haley, and Sakamoto all break out in restrained laughter as Boris grins and plays along. Calming himself down, Haley asks "It says that it serves two. Want to split it?" Takahashi interrupts and says "We are not real patrons. I can always ask Chang to bring in smaller portions." Haley smiles and nods at his menu, saying "Yea boss, I know what you mean. Just, I can't ask for half a lobster or half a pig if it is supposed to be a full one. I like to think the chef knows what he's doing." Sakamoto buts in and says "Hey, I can share." Haley nods and says "Which you going to do? Surf or turf?" Sakamoto thinks for a few seconds, and then says "I'm going turf this time. That duck sounds really good." Haley frowns and nods to himself, saying "Interesting. Usually everyone goes surf. Well, surf for me."

Satale nods at Boris and ask "What about you, Boris? What you thinking of getting?" Boris looks upwards and to the right, hovers his right hand over the table, and tilts it left and right, thinking to himself. He says "Heh, I actually want to get some sushi. Eel would be nice right now. Or maybe something Turkish…I don't know." Takahashi nudges at Boris's menu and says "They do have a Singapore-style Indian section on the fourth page. Right before the lunch specials." Boris takes Takahashi's lead and turns a page on the menu. He mutters to himself "Vmozno udarit na hleb y kuritsa (Possible to hit on the bread and chicken)." He suddenly folds the menu and says "I'm ready."

A Chinese woman in a black vest and white dress shirt waitress attire approaches the table with a pen wedged between her head and her right ear. She nervously says in English and Mandarin "R…ready? Nǐ zhǔnbèi hǎo diǎn càile ma (Are you ready to order)?" Takahashi glances at his menu and says "Mee goreng and a coconut drink." Haley stares at Sakamoto, who nods right back. Comfortable, Haley says "Singapore surf and turf and a mai tai." Satele glances at his menu and cautiously says "Get me a…rending ayam and a can of Singha." As the waitress writes the orders down, Boris, without looking at his menu, says "I will have the biryani ala Andhra Pradesh and a side order of butter naan bread. And a glass of water." The waitress transcribes Boris's order as Sakamoto says "Just get me the Singapore Sling. Remember, I expect it done authentically. With vodka and cranberry juice and that liquor thing you put in." Satele glares at Sakamoto and asks "What the hell are you talking about?" Sakamoto flinches and raises his shoulders, saying "I'm just ordering a drink, what does it look like?" Haley laughs and asks "Are you trying to order that same drink we had at that bar downtown? The one we went to for Jimmy's birthday?" Sakamoto nods and says "Yeah, that one." Haley restrains a laugh and says "That was a red lotus." Sakamoto points at Haley and turns to the waitress, saying "Yea, that."

The waitress anxiously nods and hurries out as a Chinese waiter tends to the Baek delegation. The tall, muscular man in the navy blazer turns to the Korean woman and yells out in English and Korean "Steak! Uhh…Ga-Yun…Nae seuteiku nun pinkrewh jegong sipseunida (Uhh…Ga-yun…I want my steak pink)!" Ga-yun turns to the waiter and says in Korean-accented English "Mr. Baek wants his steak served medium rare." Takahashi turns to Boris and says "I recognize that woman's voice. Who is she?" Boris coughs into his right fist and says "That is Ga-yun Kim. She is Yong-sun Baek's translator, advocate, and counselor. She is fluent in Korean, Russian, Thai, and English, has a license to practice law in Thailand, and is very highly educated and intelligent. Besides that, I am not at liberty to speak any further on this matter."

Satele subtly points at the other two gangsters at Baek's table and asks "What about those two?" Boris takes a quick glance at Baek's table, the gangsters still ordering their meals, and then turns back to Satele, saying "I do not recognize the man in the pinstriped shirt…I believe he is one of Baek's associates, probably a bodyguard. The hairless one is a Thai man from Pattaya. He is with Baek's organization. I cannot say anymore without compromising my role as an arbitrator." Takahashi nods and whispers "I understand. Mahalo (Thank you)." Boris sternly glances at Takahashi and nods in response.

Holding a Howa Type 64 assault rifle, with a sling tightened around his left arm, Songxie patrols the aisles of a supermarket filled with mostly assorted breads, pastries, and candies, alongside other wheat and sugar based products. He overhears a woman hysterically yell out in a Hawaiian accent "This is so fucked up! Songxie, why are they coming for us?!" Songxie grinds his teeth in annoyance and says "Calm down, Karen. They are just pretending to be hot shit. Did you close the…things at the office? Those things on the window?" A dark-skinned Filipina with long black hair flowing onto her shoulders, dressed in low brown heels and a sky blue buttoned shirt tucked into a black blouse, blurts out in an erratic tone "The blinds? Yes, I did that! What am I supposed to do with this?!" She nervously stares at the Nambu Type 94 pistol in her right hand, looking at it as if it is diseased. Mildly annoyed, Songxie says "Karen, you are supposed to shoot it at anyone but me until I say stop." Ms. Binayas freezes in her tracks and yells "HAVE YOU GONE LOLO (CRAZY)! I graduated with your boss Takahashi! Not from a police academy! A state university in Hawaii usually does not prepare you for this. I can speak from experience…RIGHT NOW!"

"SAO DEH LAR (SHUT THE FUCK UP)!" Songxie yells out in Cantonese. Calming himself down, he continues "Karen, I understand you are not like me. But honestly, those assholes watching the store do not care. They will shoot you. So either help, or hide. Just don't distract me." Ms. Binayas exhales deep breaths and says "Okay, okay. This is just very fucking pupule (insane)." Songxie sighs and says "Welcome to my life."

As Songxie patrols the isles, Binayas blurts out "I called Kaeo. She is sending two of her men over here." "What are their names?" Songxie replies, grabbing a croissant out of a woven basket with his right hand, holding the rifle in his left. Binayas sits down on the floor and says "Quan Vương and Thinh Phạm." Songxie nods to himself and says "Okay, a pair of Viets. Probably ran from the South Vietnam Army after that war fucked up. Should know how to shoot. Good."

Suddenly, a thought comes to Songxie, who yells "Fuck! I forgot about that Black Lagoon thing!" He stuffs the croissant into his mouth, wipes his hands on his shirt, and reaches into his pants for a cell phone. Dialing a number from the address book, he waits a minute, scarfs the croissant down, and blurts out "Number can't be reached! What the fuck?! Did Japanese take a vacation to New Zealand or something?!"

A knock reverberates from a wall on the right. Songxie pockets his cell phone and rapidly scarfs down his croissant. As Binayas takes cover from behind an aisle, Songxie readies his assault rifle and approaches a door that has a sign that says 'Bathroom Out of Order' taped to it. He tries turning the knob, only to find it locked. Songxie turns to Binayas and whispers "The key…give me the key." Binayas tosses Songxie a brass key, the latter snaring it in the air. He then proceeds to open the bathroom door, enters the bathroom, and turns toward a door fitted into the bathroom wall, the metallic door knob sticking out. In a swift motion, he twists the door knob, kicks the door forward, the door leading to an outdoor alleyway, and has the door slam into the face of a bald Vietnamese man wearing a grey Led Zeppelin t-shirt, brown cargo shorts, and white tennis shoes. Sporting a tattoo of a Bengali tiger on each arm, the Vietnamese man yells "Ow! What the hell?!"

Songxie aims his rifle at the bald Vietnamese man and yells "Get in!" The bald man complies and enters the bathroom, followed by another Vietnamese man, the latter sporting long black hair flowing onto his shoulders, wearing a crimson red button shirt, denim jeans, blue and orange sneakers, a gold chain around his neck, and thin framed glasses. "Get in! Both of you!" Songxie yells, aiming the rifle at the two men, both of them walking into the building with their hands raised in surrender. He motions towards the long haired Vietnamese man and says "You, close the door. You leave, I shoot your friend."

The bald man yells "Take it fucking easy! We were sent by Kaeo! Are you Binayas?" Songxie lowers his rifle and says "No, I'm Songxie. Are you Chen?" The bald man glances a confused look at his partner and says "Uhh…no. I'm Quan. This here is Thinh. What the hell is going on?!" Songxie laughs and says "There is no Chen, I just had to make sure. Karen told me about you two. Head in." Songxie reaches for the door to the alleyway and grabs the knob, slamming it shut.

Quan enters the supermarket, rubbing his forehead, as Thinh follows suit. Thinh blurts out "A backdoor with only a knob in the inside of the building…smart." As Songxie exits the bathroom and locks the door behind him, Binayas says "That was Laurent's idea. All that time selling guns in Central Africa made him clever with entrance and exit strategies." Quan shrugs his shoulders and asks "Who is Laurent?" Ignoring a dirty look from Songxie, Binayas answers "He is the manager of city-wide distribution and security." Quan tilts his head to the side, thinks for a second, and says "You mean that black guy, right? The one with all the French? I saw him with Kaeo before." Songxie nods and says "Yea him. Well, you are now here. You got guns?"

Quan and Thinh both slightly lift up their shirts, each wearing a belt and hip holster that is housing a pistol. Quan points at his and says "Glock 11." Thinh taps against the grip of his pistol and says "Ruger P85." Songxie laughs and says "That's it? A Ruger P85?! Aren't those broken all the time?" Thinh takes a defensive step back and says "Hey, this one works. I use it every month at a firing range." Songxie shakes his head and says "I think we have a couple more real guns in the back. Follow me."

Dressed in a grey tank top and sky blue track pants, her hair tied into a ponytail, Tuyết folds her hands on the table in the kitchen, her back facing a window next to a refrigerator. Seated to the left of her is Rock, and seated to the right of her is Revy. Tuyết blinks at Rock and says "Well?" Rock grimaces, scratches his back with his left hand, and says "We want to check if our guns have been damaged in the crash. May we have them?" Tuyết glares angrily at Rock and says "Absolutely not." Revy leans forward and says "You can watch." Tuyết blankly turns to Revy and says "You must think I'm an idiot."

Smiling, Revy lets out a laugh and says "Trust me, comrade. If I wanted to kill Viet glasses-bitch, I'd use my own hands. Much more satisfying. Don't think I could do it?" Tuyết glares blankly at Revy, and then at Rock. Yawning, she warns "All of us are carrying guns on us at this moment. You are to check your guns in the attic, only. Otherwise, concealed at all times. If anyone ever so sees a glint of metal, they will shoot you. And the bullets will be going into your legs and crotch. I have orders to bring you to your boss while you two are still alive. Nothing about bring you to your boss in one piece. Am I clear?"

Revy smirks and says "Like a Swarovski crystal." Tuyết frowns, contemplating her decision. After a pause, she says "They are in the trunk of my car. I'll take you to them. Revy, I will also give you one of Vibol's shirts to conceal them." Revy turns to Rock and calmly nods, to which Rock replies and says "Alright. That is fine with us. Thank you."

Sitting on their bed in the attic, Rock and Revy fiddle with their guns. Rock's Uzi, his shoulder holster, and Revy's twin shoulder holsters lie on the bed, with a Cutlass in one of the shoulder holsters. Revy pulls on a black shirt that says in large, red, vertically descending, English lettering "THIS TOWN – IS A PUSSY- JUST WAITING – TO GET FUCKED." The shirt is a size too large. Revy holsters her Cutlass into her waist and says "This is fucking uncomfortable. How do I look?" She stands up and turns to Rock, her shirt partially covering her corduroy shorts. Rock cracks a weak grin and says "You…I don't know where that line is from, but it makes you sound like a lesbian." Revy cracks an annoyed grin and says "Munch on a cock, will ya? Scarface, never heard of it?" Rock pauses, and then nods his head in acknowledgement, saying "Okay, now I know. Never watched it."

Revy laughs and says "Damn, you been living under a rock." Rock grabs his M9 and glances at it, saying "We have some good films like that. Takeshi Kitano's films, plus the Yakuza Papers." Revy nods and blankly says "Gotcha. By the way, I'm seriously on the fence with these Viet fucks. Tuyết gave us back our guns pretty damn fast. On one end, maybe it's a coincidence. On the other end..." Rock nods and says "I noticed that. My magazine has not been emptied. It is running empty, though. How about I give you the rest of the bullets in my current magazine and use the fresh one that I hid under the bed?"

Pulling the gun out from under her shirt, Revy nods and says "Alright, that works. I'll pull a few more from the other Cutlass." The two then eject the three magazines on the pistols. Extending the last few bullets in his magazine to Revy, Rock reaches under the bed and pulls out a fresh magazine. He inserts it in as Revy manually inserts the rounds into her Cutlass's magazine. She then looks at the magazine on her other Cutlass, shrugs her shoulders, and returns that magazine to its original gun. She then slams the remaining magazine into her remaining Cutlass and hides it under her shirt. Grimacing, she says "I literally feel the barrel pressing against my bare ass. It's fucking annoying."

Rock lets out a smirk and says "I'm enjoying that image." Revy flips Rock off and says "You give it a try. Now what game plan do you have for this? I'm thinking of a wait-and-see approach till we get back on the road. Stick close together." Rock nods and says "I am fully in agreement with that." He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and says "It is almost five P.M. We should soon be heading on the road. According to what Tuyết said earlier."

Heading down the stairs of the attic, each with a pistol concealed on their persons, Rock and Revy step onto the hallway. Tapping Rock on the shoulder, Revy whispers "Just keep cool, aight?" Rock blankly turns around and whispers "More than the same to you." Revy smirks at Rock and socks him in the gut, before proceeding down the stairs, heading toward the ground floor. Groaning in pain, Rock calmly follows and catches up to Revy.

As they turn around and face the kitchen and living room, they spot Tuyết, standing in front of a refrigerator, dressed as she was earlier, holding a Madsen M50 in her arms, with a rifle sling around her neck. Seated in the living room, Ngoc and Jake lie slouching on the sofa, each dressed as they were yesterday, with Jake dressed in his hideous yellow, green, black, and brown horizontally stripped shirt, brown cargo pants, and grey leather sandals, and Ngoc dressed in her black tank top and sky blue gym shorts. Holding onto the barrel with her right hand and standing it upright, Ngoc cradles her stockless Ithaca 37 pump-action shotgun between her legs. Seated to her right, Jake cradles his wooden framed, scoped Ruger 10/22 rifle carbine in his arms. The two still have the bandages from yesterday.

Suddenly, Vibol speaks from within the hallway to the left of the TV set, saying "Tôi lấp đầy bình xăng (I filled up the gas tank). Nên được nhiều hơn, đủ cho chuyến đi (Should be more than enough for the trip)." Ngoc nods at Vibol and says "Tốt, tốt (Good, good). Cảm ơn (Thanks)." As Vibol steps into the living room, he reveals that he is dressed in a sky blue and white horizontally stripped t-shirt and dark green sweat pants. Scanning him, Revy's face grows sterner as she notices, in Vibol's right hand, a Carl Gustav M/45 submachine gun.

Walking toward the kitchen, Vibol turns to Rock and Revy, laughs, waves his Carl Gustav M/45 at the two, uses his left hand to grab onto his waist as if he is at a rodeo, and speaks in a carefully rehearsed faux Texas-Vietnamese accent "A polite society…is armed society. Ahaha!"

As Vibol steps toward the sink in the kitchen, nodding at Tuyết, Rock turns to Revy and whispers "That scared me more than the submachine gun." Revy widens her eyes and says "At least he and I respect the second amendment. Vietnam has one, right?" Rock silently cracks a wry smile and stares at the door to the outside. He turns back to Revy and whispers "I think we're fine." Turning to Tuyết, he speaks out "Hey Tuyết. Um…when are we heading out?" Tuyết pulls out a cell phone and stares at it for a second, and then says "What I wish…leaving right now, and never having to see you two again. Sadly, we cannot always get what we wish for. So I have to tolerate you two for thirty more minutes. Then we could all prepare to head out, leaving town around 6 P.M. sharp. Is there anything else?"

"Something to eat would be nice," Rock mutters, almost feebly. Tuyết hurriedly pulls open the fridge. Reaching inside, she opens a cabinet in the fridge and pulls out a Ziploc bag full of sliced ham. She pitches the bag of ham at Rock, hitting Rock in the upper chest with it as he catches it with his right hand. She then pulls out a can of Hanoi beer and pitches it at Revy, who leans forward and catches it underhandedly. As Vibol turns around and prepares to protest Tuyết raiding his refrigerator, Tuyết waves Vibol off and says to Rock and Revy "Figure it out yourselves."

Calmly darting blank stares at Tuyết, Rock and Revy turn toward the stairs. Walking up them, Revy whispers "Either she is one hell of an actress, or we really are fine. Whatever, I want out of here, like now." Approaching the retractable stairs to the attic, Rock says "Soon Revy. By the way, I remembered something funny, from back in Japan."

Climbing up the stairs, Revy says "I'm listening." As they reach the top and retract the stairs, Rock says "When I was in my university, I knew this guy, same grade level as me. We occasionally kept in touch. Not anymore. We were both originally studying in the same field…logistics, but he then switched to finance. He got an internship on his last year, at a pretty serious investment bank."

Sitting down on the bed, beer in hand, Revy says "Go on, I'm listening." She quickly opens the beer and places it to her mouth, catching a small surge of beer before it could spill on her hand. Watching Revy swallow the gulp of beer, Rock opens the bag of ham and pulls out a slice. He crams it into his mouth, eats it, and hands Revy the bag of ham. Continuing with his story, Rock says "The guy worked in the futures department. Do you know how futures contracts work?"

Placing the beer on the bed, pulling two slices of ham out the bag, and eating them, Revy swallows and then says "Nope. This is where you gonna tell me?" Rock smiles and reaches toward the beer on the bed. Taking a gulp, he swallows, collects his thoughts, and says "A futures contract is where two parties agree to buy or sell a set amount of something at a deadline. Like, I want to buy 100 bars of gold at $1,000 a bar, because I expect the price to rise in the future. I buy at $1,000 because that is the price at that moment in the market. Let us say, tomorrow, the price rises to $1,100. When this happens, $100 per bar is pulled out of the sellers account, basically the person promising to sell the actual gold bars, and put in the buyer's account. It works in reverse for the seller, when prices drop."

Revy pulls another slice of ham out of the bag and asks "Where the hell is this going?" Rock cracks a weak smile and takes a sip of beer. Wiping his mouth with his beer-holding right hand, Rock continues "Well usually, someone sells their actual contract to someone else before the deadline comes along. Like, say I earlier was at $1,100 a bar? I would then make a futures contract to sell at $1,100 a bar, and when someone bites, they basically just take my place as a buyer of gold bars, and I get $1,100 per gold bar. The reverse works if you are the seller. Now, if the deadline comes, you are legally obligated to buy or sell actual gold bars, and you are expected to have the product or the money available for that. Again, usually, someone like me would have sold the contract to a serious jeweler and they would then get the gold and be happy."

Revy shrugs her shoulders and asks "Yea, so?" Rock breaks out a smirk and says "My friend…was working with contracts for cattle." Realizing the joke, Revy starts cracking up, as Rock continues "…and got so drunk one night, that he wasn't able to sell the contract for 500 Wagyu Cows from Mie Prefecture, before the deadline." Revy starts chuckling and asks "Oh fuck…did they send the cows to the bank?" Rock starts laughing and says "I wish! No, they sent them to some grazing field up in Northern Japan, in Yamagata Prefecture. As a punishment, the bank sent my former classmate up North. He spent the rest of his internship as a cowhand, making sure they don't break out of the fence and cleaning up their shit. He didn't get the full-time job." Revy and Rock casually laugh together, and exchange ham and beer. Taking a sip of beer, Revy nods and smiles, saying "Now Rock, that is an example of a funny joke. You're learning."

A desert-colored UAZ-469 all-terrain vehicle, with a black tarp covering the rear, drives up in front of the house, driven by a slightly dark-skinned Vietnamese woman in her late 40s, sporting black hair cut above the shoulders and thick framed black and brown spotted glasses, wearing a light-brown leather jacket and dark blue jeans. Seated right next to her, Thongvan takes a final drag on a dying cigarette and tosses it onto the asphalt. Seated behind the Vietnamese woman, a light-skinned, clean shaven, short, chubby, muscular Laotian man in his mid-20s yawns and looks out the window, sporting short black hair and faded eyebrows, wearing a sleeveless light green shirt that says "Got Lift?" in white English lettering, dark brown cargo shorts, and a brown beaded necklace. Seated behind Thongvan, a slightly dark-skinned Vietnamese man in his late 40s cracks his knuckles, sporting short black hair and a long moustache, wearing an unbuttoned dark green camouflage colored shirt, a sleeveless black V-neck undershirt, black cargo shorts, a gold watch on his left wrist, and a dark green camouflage colored panama hat.

Yawning, Thongvan pulls out his cell phone and answers an incoming call. He says "Ông chủ (Boss)? Chúng tôi chỉ đến (We just arrived). Chờ đợi (Wait)! Bạn đang nói về cái gì (What are you talking about)? Tao xem (I see). Nó sẽ được thực hiện (It will be done)." He hangs up the phone and leans back in his seat.

Suddenly, a sky blue Yamaha SR250 motorcycle drives up to the UAZ-469, driven by a muscular, clean shaven Thai man in his 30s, his facial hair recently shaved off, sporting thick eyebrows, dressed in a red and black Manchester United tracksuit. Holding on behind the Thai biker, a skinny, somewhat dark-skinned 30-something year-old Tamil woman nods at the UAZ-469, sporting long black hair tied into a ponytail, wearing a blue and white polka-dot patterned buttoned shirt and black slacks. The motorcycle parks in front of the UAZ-469, as the two on the bike dismount and approach the UAZ.

Peering his head out of the window, Thongvan says to the Thai man in Vietnamese-accented English "Weerawat, what are you doing here? Who's the woman?" The Tamil woman replies in Thai-accented English "Ulagammal. My name is Ulagammal. We know each other from Phuket." Weerawat nods and confirms in Thai-accented English "Yea, I mentioned I had a friend with me when we were searching for that boat that attacked Hiếu Văn Phạm's friends. Well here she is. By the way, did you seriously try to fucking cut me out of this?!" Thongvan coldly stares at Weerawat and says "I had a time limit and I brought only those that were with me. You know Linh from before. Linh, Weerawat. Weerawat, Linh."

The Vietnamese woman in the leather jacket nods at Weerawat and Ulagammal and repeats their names, as Weerawat and Ulagammal nod in confirmation. Thongvan points at the panama hat wearing Vietnamese man behind him and says "The guy with the hat is Danh. The short guy is from Laos. He is Thavisouk." As they all remember each other's names, Thongvan motions everyone towards the back of the car.

Crowding around the back of the car, the five henchmen watch as Thongvan lifts up the tarp and reveals four AK-47's with extra magazines taped to the ones already inserted. Next to the AK-47's is a set of four CZ-75's with a spare magazine next to each gun. "A few years old, from the military base. Recently cleaned. Have fun," Thongvan speaks out, as he holsters a CZ-75 in one leather jacket pocket and stuffs a spare CZ-75 magazine in the other pocket. He then grabs an AK-47 and switches it to fully-automatic firing. Thongvan eyes the streets and finds it pleasantly devoid of life.

While Thongvan's crew arms themselves, Weerawat and Ulagammal head toward their Yamaha motorcycle. Ulagammal reaches toward a pouch tied to the bike and opens it. Sticking her hand inside, she pulls out a pair of MAC-10 submachine guns, handing one to Weerawat. Suddenly, a blue Lada Samara drives up and parks behind the UAZ. Three Vietnamese men exit the car, all in their 30s, the driver dressed in a black tracksuit and sporting long black hair and a goatee, holding an AKS-74u. The latter two are both sporting short black hair and wearing dark green t-shirts and blue jeans, with one holding a KS-23 shotgun and the other holding a Stechkin automatic pistol. After aiming his AK-47 at the three, he is silently waved off by them, as the driver approaches Thongvan and says "Chúng tôi là với Hiếu Văn Phạm (We are with Hiếu Văn Phạm)." Weerawat stares at Thongvan and asks "How many people is he throwing at these idiots?"

Climbing up the stairs with his Ruger 10/22 held in his right hand, Branca heads toward the attic, flanked by Ngoc with her Ithaca shotgun. Reaching the hallway before the attic, Branca yells out "Alright you annoying fucks! It's time to hit the road!" Shortly afterwards, the attic stairs slowly drop. Stepping down the stairs, Revy smirks at Branca and Ngoc, wearing her shoulder holsters, her Cutlasses holstered inside them. Rock follows her from behind, wearing his shoulder holster, Uzi holstered inside it, the outline of his M9 visible on the back of his shirt. Shaking her head, Ngoc says "Luckily, I'm not driving you assholes. You two are going in the Toyota with Tuyết and Trí Vũ. Me, Jake, and Vibol are going in my car. The Telstar. And we are going to drive away from you as if you got chinky bird flu."

As Revy prepares to open her mouth, a thunderous burst of gunfire sounds from outside. Vibol and Tuyết quickly duck under the refrigerator as bullets zip over their heads, shredding glass and wood, creating a maelstrom of debris. Ducking under the sofa, Trí Vũ yells out "Cái quái đụ (What the fuck)?!" He pulls out a MAC-10 from under the sofa and yells "Vibol! Tuyết! Vẫn còn sống (Still alive)?!" Crawling under the table as the gunfire ceases, Vibol yells "Vâng! Vâng! (Yes! Yes!)"

Getting her bearings, Ngoc nods at Branca and says "First door behind you, the door before the one with the mattresses. Large storage room with windows. You and Rock go and shoot at them. Revy! You and me downstairs!" Brushing everything to the side, Revy replies "Alright, I'm pissed off, and those fucks outside are making it convenient." She and Ngoc head down the stairs as Branca slams open the door behind him and steps into a room peppered with random cardboard boxes. Drawing his Uzi, Rock follows Branca to the end of the room, facing two windows. Branca yells "You got right, I got left."

Running toward the window with the stock of his hunting rifle aimed at it, Branca shatters open the window. As he readjusts his rifle, Rock pulls the window open with both of his hands and looks out. He spots Thongvan, Linh, Danh, Thavisouk, and the unnamed Vietnamese driver reloading their Kalashnikovs as the other two unnamed Vietnamese men, Ulagammal, and Weerawat slowly approach the front door. Danh and Thavisouk scan the house, apparently alerted by the shattered window. Aiming his Uzi at the four approaching the door, Rock yells "Four are approaching the house!" Sticking his rifle into the gap, Branca replies "I got them!" Suddenly, Danh points at the window and yells out in Vietnamese "BẤN TÍA (SNIPER)! ĐẦNG KIA (OVER THERE)!"

Pulling the trigger, Branca fires a round through the KS-23 wielding Vietnamese assassin, punching a hole through his left lung, spraying blood and flesh out of the wound, and sending him to the asphalt, mortally wounded. Rock unloads his Uzi, haphazardly firing at Thongvan's posse. A bullet grazes Linh's right thigh, causing her to flinch, while two other bullets strike Danh in the gut, sending him flying onto his ass. Weerawat adjust his MAC-10 toward Branca, only to scream in pain as a bullet punches a hole through Weerawat's right cheek, spraying blood all over the asphalt. Covering the wound with his left hand, Weerawat staggers onto his knees and yells in pain. Spotting this, Ulagammal yells out in Thai "YET MAE (MOTHERFUCKER)!" She, the Stechkin wielding gangster, and the kneeling Weerawat open fire on Branca and Rock, the latter immediately dodging to the side. "Oh shit!" Branca yells out, trying to duck out of the way. While ducking, two bullets strike the frame of his Ruger, shattering it into a few pieces and sending a shard of wood towards his left shoulder. Yelling out in pain as the large splinter lodges itself firmly into his left shoulder, Branca yells "Useless wooden motherfucker!" Back outside, Weerawat calms himself down and clamps down on the wound using his tongue and left hand. As he crawls to cover behind the UAZ, the KS-23 wielding assassin bleeds out and expires, and Danh yells "Tôi sẽ giết ngươi (I will kill you)! Tôi sẽ đụ mông của bạn trong một nửa (I will fuck your ass in half)!"

Suddenly, jumping out from cover behind the kitchen sink, Tuyết steadies her Madsen M50 and prepares to fire at Ulagammal and the Stechkin wielding gangster. Ulagammal drops on her stomach as the Stechkin wielding assassin side steps to the left in anticipation of Tuyết. Immediately, Tuyết fires a seven round burst, the first four bullets harmlessly bouncing off the asphalt, the fifth bullet striking the Stechkin wielding assassin right above the right kneecap, the sixth bullet missing the intended target and striking Danh in his left shoulder, sending him onto his back, and the seventh shot harmless lodging itself into the UAZ. The Stechkin wielding assassin opens fire at Tuyết while losing his balance, the bullets missing widely as Tuyết returns to cover. Vibol nods at Tuyết from behind the fridge and crawls toward the window. He arcs his Carl Gustav M/45 and unleashes blind fire on the crowd, keeping them occupied.

Crouching under the window, Rock yells "Holy hell, are you alright?!" Branca winces in pain and cries out "I got a motherfucking cocksucking piece of fucking wood lodged in my shoulder, what the fuck you think?! Argh! And I think my right middle finger is broken! Fuck!" Rock grabs Branca by the back of his shirt and drags him toward the space between the two windows. He spots the splinter, the shard causing treks of blood to stain his shirt. Patting Branca on his right shoulder, Rock grabs onto the bottom of the window frame with his left hand and pulls himself up, sticking his Uzi out the window. He aims his Uzi at the kneeling Stechkin wielding assassin and fires four bullets, the first two missing, the third cutting open a major artery on his right arm, and the fourth bullet striking right above the crotch. The Stechkin assassin quickly covers the wound with his left hand, as blood begins to rush out. As Rock quickly ducks back to cover, Thongvan, Linh, and Thavisouk fire several rounds at the second floor. To both his and Branca's horror, a couple of the bullets actually penetrate the brick wall, with one bullet punching through the space in the wall right below Rock's crotch.

"Okay, that's enough!" Rock yells out, holstering his Uzi. He grabs Branca by the back of his shirt collar and drags him to the other end of the room. Helping him to his feet, he and Branca dart out of the room and into the hallway, with Branca groaning in pain, glaring at the splinter. The two climb down the stairs and spot Tuyết and Vibol taking cover in the kitchen. Right at the bottom of the stairs, Ngoc and Revy take cover behind a small wall in front of the stairs, a coat hanger right next to them. Trí Vũ huddles behind the sofa, appearing to be a little out of his element. From outside, Thongvan yells out "ĐI! ĐI! ĐI! (GO! GO! GO!) Giết họ! Giết họ! Giết họ! (Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!)" Turning around, Ngoc spots Branca and yells "ĐỤ (FUCK)! Tôi sẽ giết những (I will kill those) cocksucking, motherless fucks! Are you okay?!"

"Fucking defective piece of shit! I hope the asshole that sold me that rifle swallows a goddamn knife!" Branca yells out, sitting down next to Ngoc and Revy. Rock turns to everyone and says "He'll live. I saw nine people outside, seven men, two women. Two cars and a motorcycle. Jake got two of them, at least one is dead. Two more got hit, they are either dead or soon going to be." Tuyết nods and says "Okay, okay. Damn, we don't have time to set up booby traps. Let me think…"

Out of nowhere, Thavisouk leaps through the window in the kitchen, AK-47 in hand. He lands awkwardly on the table and crashes through it. Quickly aiming his rifle at Tuyết, he prepares to pull the trigger when Tuyết quickly grabs the rifle by the barrel and aims it up at the ceiling. As Thavisouk squeezes the trigger and lodges bullets into the ceiling, Vibol aims his Carl Gustav M/45 at Thaivsouk's chest and unloads bullets, turning his chest and neck into swiss cheese, killing him.

From outside, right below the kitchen window, Ulagammal extends her arms out and waits to help send another assassin through the window. At the same time, the Stechkin wielding assassin, holding his wound with his left hand, and the AKS-74U wielding assassin climb up the porch and take cover behind opposite ends of the front door. As Linh gets a running start in front of Ulagammal, the AKS-74U gunman kicks the door down and immediately breaches, aiming with his rifle's iron sights. He is immediately greeted with three bullets each from Revy's Cutlasses. The first two from Revy's left Cutlass strike the assassin in the pelvis. The first from her right Cutlass punctures his aorta, while second from the right Cutlass gashes his left shoulder. The last two bullets gash his already dead heart, as the assassin leans backwards, drops his rifle, and drops dead on the porch, tumbling once off of it and falling on his face. Blood stains the grass on the front lawn as the Stechkin wielding assassin blindly fires from cover.

Suddenly, Linh leaps gracefully through the window, AK-47 in hand. She lands on her feet and quickly swipes Vibol across the face with her rifle's buttstock, breaking his cheekbone. She quickly turns her attention to Tuyết and grabs the barrel of her Madsen M50 with her left hand. Jerking the barrel forward, Linh quickly curls her elbow and swipes it across Tuyết's face as Tuyết runs into it. Revy attempts to focus a shot on Linh, only to have Tuyết jump in front of her aim, spoiling the shot attempt. Linh and Tuyết struggle, locking their rifles. As Tuyết attempts to swipe at Linh with the barrel of her Madsen M50, Linh parries the swipe with the barrel of her Kalashnikov. She then leaps behind Tuyết and begins to choke her with her AK-47, using Tuyết as a human shield in front of Revy.

Unbeknownst to Linh, Vibol has regained his bearings and considers aiming at Tuyết, before changing his mind and switching his M/45 into his left hand. He then, in one very quick motion, reaches for a knife rack, grabs a knife, and pulls it out. He then drops his M/45, grabs Linh's forehead with his left hand, and plunges the knife into the back of her neck with his right hand, blood trekking down her neck. Linh gargles blood and eases her grip on her rifle, letting it slide off her hands, as Vibol arcs the knife downward and digs into her neck. After a few seconds, he pulls the knife out and tosses her corpse to the side, her head landing next to Thavisouk.

Tuyết turns around to Vibol and favors her neck with her right hand, rubbing it. Staring at Tuyết, Vibol explains "Tôi không muốn vô tình bắn bạn (I don't want to accidently shoot you). Xin lôi (Sorry)." From outside, Thongvan yells "Rõ ràng ra (Clear out)! Tôi có một ý tưởng (I have an idea)!"

The Stechkin wielding assassin fires a couple more shots from cover and then stops. Pondering over the lull in battle, Revy speaks "What the hell is going on? They stopped?" Tuyết and Vibol stare at each other and shrug their shoulders, crouching behind the sink. Suddenly, they hear a car starting, stopping, and then reversing. Carrying Branca to the sofa, Ngoc asks "What is that?" Thinking for a second, Tuyết laughs and says "No way…" As the sound of a car accelerating resonates through the neighborhood, Tuyết's face turns to fear as she yells "CHẠY ĐI (RUN)!"

Using the sloped lawn as a mini ramp, Thongvan launches the Lada Samara through the kitchen, crashing through the brick wall and landing the car sloping downward onto Linh and Thavisouk, crushing their corpses, as Tuyết, Vibol, Revy, and Rock run out of the crash zone and join Ngoc, Branca, and Trí behind the sofas.

Coughing and groaning, head buried in an air bag, Thongvan quickly draws a CZ-75 as he hears the hobbling fridge fall to the ground. He opens the car door and falls out, landing slightly awkwardly. Aiming his CZ-75 at the hallway, he kneels before the fridge and rests his chest on it, breathing heavily, spotting Vibol's M/45 on the ground, along with two AK-47s. On the wall opposite the kitchen, Vibol taps on Tuyết's shoulder. He lifts his shirt up and pulls out a Browning Hi-Power pistol. Gripping onto her Madsen, Tuyết takes point and raises three fingers. Preparing to confront Thongvan, she whispers "Ba (Three). Hai (Two). Một (One)!" She and Vibol quickly run forward and crouch a couple of meters in front of Thongvan, aiming their guns at him. A pissed off look on her face, Tuyết yells "WHO ARE YOU?! WHO THE HELL SENT YOU?!" Raising his face off the fridge, Thongvan stares at Tuyết and laughs, the latter and Vibol both staring in confusion. Leaning his head forward, Vibol says "Thongvan? Đó có nghĩa là ... (That means…)?" Giving a fake frown, Thongvan says "Xin lỗi, đó là một kinh doanh điều. (Sorry, it's a business thing)."

Out of nowhere, the Stechkin wielding assassin yells out "Thời gian là lên (Time is up)! Chuẩn bị để có được đụ (Prepare to get fucked)!" As the Stechkin assassin runs through the doorway, right arm and Stechkin stretched out, left hand on the wound, Tuyết turns right and aims her Madsen. She fires and takes steps back, as she and Vibol open fire on the assassin. Three shots into the right ribs, three into the gut, two into the left shoulder, and one into the left side of the neck. The assassin drops his Stechkin, grabs onto his neck with his left hand, blood pouring out of his new holes, and leans backwards, losing his balance.

As the Stechkin assassin gasps his last breath and falls onto the space between the porch and the doorway, Thongvan raises his CZ-75 and fires six shots on Vibol. Tuyết quickly leaps into cover as the first two shots miss. As Vibol turns to face Thongvan, the third shot strikes Vibol in the left side of the pelvis. Wincing and now facing Thongvan, arcing his pistol toward him, the fourth Thongvan bullet pierces Vibol's left lung. The fifth bullet drills into his chest, right into the aorta, and the last bullet misses to the left of Vibol's neck. Vibol gasps for breath, takes a step back, drops his pistol, and falls forward, his arms spread out. Landing on his face, Vibol takes his final breath, mutters "Không...ý nghĩa (No…sense)" and croaks. Peering out of the hallway, Tuyết yells out "Vibol? Vibol?!" She turns to Rock, Revy, and the rest, and yells "Screw this! We are going now!" As everyone hurries up toward the hallway to the left of the TV, Tuyết yells again "Now! To the car now!"

Tuyết and Revy cover the rear, Rock carries Branca by his right shoulder, and Ngoc and Trí take point, Ithaca and MAC-10 at the ready. Reaching the door, Trí twists the knob and kicks it open, only to be greeted by Danh and his AK-47. Smiling, he squeezes the trigger, wincing after each shot. Two bullets punch into Trí's lower abdomen before he could even realize what happened. Three more hit his chest, followed by another two through the heart, killing him. Four of the bullets ricochet out of Trí's back, with one of them lodging itself in Branca's left knee and another one lodging itself in Branca's left rib. As Trí collapses onto his left shoulder, and as Danh turns his AK-47 toward Ngoc and yells "KỂ TIỂP (NEXT)", Ngoc aims her Ithaca at Danh and fires two 12gauge shots into his chest and legs, shredding his insides. The second shot knocking him off his feet and sending him backwards, him falling on his stomach as if he just got sacked for a loss of five, dead immediately after hitting the ground. "My shoulder and now my leg and ribs…Trí got clipped!" Tuyết yells out "Keep going! I don't plan to die here!" "How many left?!" Revy yells out. "I DON'T CARE, JUST GO!" Tuyết replies, as Thongvan pulls himself onto one knee.

Running into the house through the front, MAC-10 at the ready, Ulagammal leaps over the Stechkin assassin's corpse and scans the damage. She spots Thongvan on the right, the latter yelling "GO! Around the back! I'm covering the front!" Ulagammal nods and runs forward, through the backyard, stepping over Trí's corpse. She checks on Danh and then turns left, taking cover by the back wall. Overhearing Branca groaning in pain, as Tuyết climbs into the driver seat, the head-cushion still damaged, and Rock, M9 in hand, climbs into the front-side passenger seat, the front of the car facing the backyard, Ulagammal pulls out her magazine and inspects it, finding it half full. She reinserts it and lets the slide lock in automatically. As Ngoc climbs into the backseat, as Branca uses the roof of the Toyota for leverage, and as Rock rolls down his passenger window, Ulagammal steps out of cover and yells in Thai "Wahng thai laiu (Drop dead already)!" She aims at Revy and Branca, getting off five shots. The first two shots strike the ground in front of Branca's feet, the third shot strikes him in the stomach, the fourth shot buries itself in his left kidney, and the last bullet grazes Revy's right leg, causing her to wince in discomfort.

"JAKE!" Ngoc yells as Branca loses his balance and falls backward onto his ass, in shock. Revy and Rock quickly turn their attention toward Ulagammal. Revy aims her left Cutlass as Rock aims his M9. They each squeeze of three bullets as Ulagammal returns to cover, the bullets peppering the brick wall and the backyard lawn. Turning to Branca, Revy tosses her right Cutlass into the backseat, grabs Branca by his right arm, lifts him up, and pushes him into the backseat, and then jumps inside as well. She slams the door as Tuyết hurriedly shifts the car to reverse. Sticking his M9 out of the window once again, Rock fires off a few more bullets at Ulagammal's direction, keeping her from jumping out of cover. As the Toyota swerves onto the road, facing the same direction as the UAZ, Rock and Ngoc spot Thongvan preparing to fire an AK-47 at the Toyota. He squeezes off three shots that miss to the right, before running to cover into the house as Rock fires off a few from his M9 and as Ngoc fires off a few shots from a CZ-52, her upper body sticking out of her window. Immediately afterwards, Tuyết switches to drive and slams on the gas. Climbing to his feet and still covering his left cheek with his left hand, Weerawat fires a few desperate shots from his MAC-10, from behind the UAZ, one of the bullets lodging itself into the Toyota's trunk.

Running out of the house, Thongvan points at Weerawat with his rifle and yells "Trong xe hơi (In the car)! Ngay bây giờ (Right now)!" He runs toward the driver's door and pulls it open, stepping inside, as Weerawat climbs into the front-side passenger seat. As Ulagammal runs up to the street, Thongvan yells "Take the bike!" He reaches into Weerawat's pocket, pulls out a set of keys, and tosses it out the window, and then immediately slams on the gas.

"What the hell are you fucking doing?! Get off of him!" Ngoc yells at Revy, the latter pressing her hands on the holes leading to Branca's kidney and stomach, as the Toyota Corolla speeds down the highway. Branca's eyes flutter as he seems to shift to and from consciousness. Darting a dirty look at Ngoc, Revy yells "You want him to bleed to death?! I'm trying to keep him alive, you stupid fuck!" "CAN EVERYONE BE QUIET?! I'M TRYING TO THINK!" Tuyết yells out, swinging her right hand out for emphasis, almost smacking Rock in the face. A calm look on his face, Rock asks "Who was that, attacking us?" Darting a quick, uncomfortable glance at Rock, and then returning her attention to the highway, she eases down her speed. After a pause, she lies "I don't know. All I know is that he threw numbers at us." Licking her lips, she continues "Vibol and Trí…I am going to have to notify two families today. Damn. I saw a couple of police cars headed to the town on the other side of the highway. If anything, the shootout cleared the streets. Should get us to Martin…to Martin and your boat relatively quickly."

"Uh, are you forgetting something here?!" Ngoc yells out, cradling Branca's head as Revy blocks the blood from pouring out. Collecting her thoughts, Tuyết sighs and says "We'll get him to a doctor. A clinic that won't ask any questions." On edge, Ngoc exclaims "Do you even know any clinics in Cam Ranh?!" Tuyết frowns and admits "No. It's fine I…shit." Ngoc extends her arms out and yells "Well shit what?! Say something!" Tuyết heaves a deep sigh, takes a quick glance at Branca, returns her eyes to the road, and says "I want to keep my work life and what's left of my personal life separate…okay. When I used to sell hash in Nha Trang, my #1 customer was this medical student from Cam Ranh. He studied at Huế but went to Nha Trang for vacation. I stopped selling for over a year and he stopped buying from me a month before that, but I have his number. Unless he dropped out or something, he should be already working. Probably in his home city. It is a long shot, but I don't know anyone else."

Tuyết reaches into her right pocket and pulls out a cell phone. She hands it to Rock and says "Find the name 'Tân' and dial it. I have my hands full." Rock shuffles through various names, finds 'Tân', and dials. As the call tries to go through, Rock hands Tuyết back her cell phone. Wedging the cell phone between her right ear and her shoulder, Tuyết says "Xin chào, nó là Tuyết (Hello, it is Tuyết). Từ Nha Trang (From Nha Trang). Nghe này, tôi hiểu điều này là rất ngạc nhiên, nhưng tôi có một số câu hỏi (Listen, I understand this is very sudden, but I have a few questions). Được (Okay). Bạn đã nhận được bằng tốt nghiệp của bạn (Did you receive your diploma)? Được (Okay). Trong y học, phải không (In medicine, right)? Tốt. Bạn có làm việc trong Cam Ranh (You work in Cam Ranh)? Được rồi, đó là tuyệt vời (Okay, that is fantastic)! Nghe rất chặt chẽ (Listen very closely). Tôi có một người bạn bị bắn (I have a friend who was shot). Anh ấy cần được chăm sóc y tế ngay lập tức (He needs immediate medical care). Bạn sẽ được bồi thường (You will be compensated)."

After a pause, she smiles and says "Cảm ơn bạn rất rất nhiều (Thank you very very much)! Anh sẽ gặp em ở đó (I'll meet you there)." Hanging up the phone, Tuyết says "He will treat Branca at his house in Cam Ranh. And he will keep quiet about this." Ngoc glares at Tuyết and anxiously yells "Is going to light one up before surgery?!" Tuyết groans in annoyance and glares upward, sighing and saying "No! Now be quiet already!" Suddenly, Branca mutters "Just…let me fucking die already. Ugh…I…think I can still feel…my legs. Dropping out of school just…fucking get shot in Vietnam…the hell." Ngoc cradles Branca's neck and says "You are going to be okay, Jake. Just hold on for thirty more minutes. Almost there."

Looking out the window, Rock glares at the orange horizon and comments "I'm surprised that we haven't been attacked yet. There were still two assassins left." He closes his eyes and drowns out all the noise around him, feeling tired and spent.

Seated on opposite chairs in the middle of the restaurant's balcony, Yong-sun Baek and Raymond Takahashi face off against each other. To Baek's right, Ga-yun Kim, with a calm, patient look on her face, is seated on a chair, crossing her legs. To Takahashi's left, Satele glares at Baek, surveying his clothes, seated opposite from Kim. Behind Baek and Kim, the pinstriped-shirt wearing Korean man and the bald Thai man stand at the railing, their arms crossed across their chests. Behind Takahashi and Satele, Sakamoto and Haley rest against the railing, both looking like they are slouching. Seated perpendicularly to Baek and Takahashi, and opposite the sliding glass door to the interior of the restaurant, Boris Melamud stretches his arms out and lifts a glass of water off from the floor, taking a sip from it. Setting the glass down, Boris says "Very well, food was excellent." Spotting Mr. Chang seated inside the restaurant, Boris waves at him and yells "Thank you!" Mr. Chang nods at Boris and hurriedly picks his cell phone off his table. Putting the cell phone to his ear, Mr. Chang says in Mandarin "Ruìxīng Fènghuáng Shāngrén Xiéhuì (The Rising Phoenix Merchant Association). Wǒ zěnyàng cáinéng bāngzhù ma (How can I help you)? Oh, I see. I promised to give you my answer by tomorrow. Oh, I understand. I can tell you where I'm leaning at, but that means nothing. Oh…interesting. That would certainly work in our favor. Who? This better not be a smokescreen. Who? Oh, Mr. Fajuyi…yes, I spoke with him. He is…interested in the implementation phase. He has an idea on how he could pitch in and make something out of it. He doesn't want to make a long term investment, however. Yes, exactly that. Okay. And when I make my decision, I will call you immediately, so you can halt with the hard sells. Goodbye."

Slightly gesturing with his right index finger at both sides to get their attention, Boris says "Very well, let us not make this more complicated than it has to be. Both sides take a turn explaining their grievances, I will judge if restitution has to be made, and if necessary, settle on a number. Since Mr. Baek reached out to us for this peace talk, I will let him...err…Ms. Kim, I will let Ms. Kim go first."

Ga-yun Kim nods and turns to Yong-sun Baek. She whispers in Korean "Uriga chaoum idunghabnida (We are the first to go). Chuga hai gei nayo (Is there anything you want to add)?" Baek shakes his head and whispers "Anio (No). Ohseo (Go ahead)." Kim turns to Boris and says "Today is January 6, 1998. Last Saturday, the body of Ji-hoon Seok, one of our top men, was found in two separate dumpsters behind two of the bars that we own. He was found in two separate dumpsters because he was vertically bisected with a chainsaw. We are here to seek restitution for Seok's murder. That is all."

Boris nods and shifts his attention toward Takahashi, saying "Now what is your opening argument?" Takahashi clears his throat and says "I celebrated my New Years Eve by having that same man, Ji-hoon Seok, point a gun to my forehead and threaten to pull the trigger, along with finding, raping, and killing my sister, unless I paid him 500,000 dollars. American. Furthermore, right before these negotiations, I received word from my business associates that several Korean-speaking men have squatted in front of my businesses. At least one group is armed."

Kim immediately retorts "One, just because someone is squatting in front of you does not constitute that they plan to kill you. Last time I checked, benches are public property. Second, do you deny responsibility for Ji-hoon Seok's murder?" Boris nods and says "Ms. Kim is correct on the first assertion." Satele quickly retorts "Hey, if I want to soak in the sun, I'd go to a beach or a park, not a factory, a supermarket, and a dockyard. What she is saying is bullshit." Boris nods and says "Mr. Satele also has a point."

Kim repeats herself "Again, do you deny responsibility for Ji-hoon Seok's murder?" Satele smiles and says "You say that as if it is for a tape recorder." "EXCUSE ME?!" Kim yells out, offended. Boris shakes his head and says "That is crossing into bad territory. I suggest you stop that train of thought." Takahashi turns to Satele and says "Kaimana, shut up." Darting a frustrated look, Kim asks "Again, for the third time, do you deny responsibility for Ji-hoon Seok's murder?" Takahashi frowns, looks toward the boats docked in the marina, and grumpily says "I did what was necessary. That which would have been expected from anyone in my shoes." "And the body disposal?" Kim asks, hiding a smirk. Takahashi grumpily repeats himself "I did what was necessary."

Turning to Boris, Kim says "I think you have everything that is necessary." Boris nods and says "Yes I do. And Mr. Takahashi is correct." "Excuse me?" Kim asks, as if she didn't hear Boris correctly. Baek taps Kim's shoulder and asks "Musuen iriya (What is going on)?" Kim raises her right index finger at Baek as Boris explains "Mr. Takahashi reacted in self-defense against Mr. Seok. Furthermore, Mr. Seok has no next of kin, and even if he did, they would not see a dollar. Therefore, no restitution for his death." Kim raises her arms out in disbelief as Takahashi smiles to himself.

"However," Boris blurts out, collecting everyone's attention. Licking his lips, he says "However, the body disposal was beyond any parameters that any sensible person would have established. Juxtaposed, the squatting is a clear act of aggression, one that occurred right before this…sit down. Regardless, it does not compare to dumping a corpse on one's own property. In regard to the body disposal, Mr. Takahashi will make restitution to Mr. Baek. He will pay the costs that Mr. Baek accumulated in the removal and burial…cremation I assume, of Mr. Seok's corpse, as well as a fine. The fine will be small because it was partially offset by the squatting display. I believe a fine of $5,000 would be appropriate. American. Lastly, Mr. Baek must call back all the squatters immediately. This judgment is final. Any objections?"

Takahashi shakes his head and says "It is fair. I accept your judgment." Boris turns to Kim and says "And you?" Kim turns to Mr. Baek and whispers almost silently into his ear. Baek pouts and snarls at Takahashi, curling his right hand into a fist and waving it at Takahashi. As Kim continues to whisper into Baek's ear, Baek relaxes his stance and grimaces. Turning to Kim, Baek frowns and nods. Kim turns to Boris and says "We accept your judgment. Mr. Baek will need to be excused for a second, in order to call back our men. In the meantime, I would like to introduce you, Mr. Takahashi, to Mr. Devakula."

As Baek rises from his seat and exits the balcony, the bald Thai man approaches Takahashi and Satele, extending his right hand toward them. The two shake his hand. Mr. Devakula nods at Boris, shakes his hand, and then takes Mr. Baek's seat. Turning his attention to Takahashi, Mr. Devakula speaks in Thai-accented English "My name is Mr. Devakula, as you may have guessed. I own Devakula Beach Realty and Construction. As in, I build beachfront hotels and sell them. I normally do business with Mr. Baek in terms of lifting money, but as gesture of friendliness, he will share my business chances with you."

Takahashi leans forward and says "Hotel development. Interesting. I am listening." Mr. Devakula smiles and says "Good. I am about to begin the construction of a 15 floor luxury hotel in Pattaya, right by the beach. I need 15 million dollars, American, to…pen kham tee (the word is)…adequately…adequately fund the project with my own funds. Obviously, you pay those 15 million dollars as the construction goes along, not all at once. At the end, my realty company will sell the hotel, and you will be paid in…proportion…to what you…yie (damn)…contribute. Yes, contribute. Remember, this will be clean money, and you can rinse your dirty money through this."

Takahashi smiles and nods, saying "I wish to visit the construction site." Mr. Devakula nods and says "Of course. I will hand you any needed documents to answer any questions. I assure you that my suppliers are of high standards, and are legitimate. You will be a silent partner, and they would not know anything." Takahashi nods and extends his hand toward Devakula. The two shake hands as Takahashi says "If I enjoy what I see, I will invest in your hotel project. Perhaps…I may even buy it off you." Mr. Devakula nods and says "That could be a possibility."

Peering out a window with a Norinco 56 in hand, Quan Vương whistles and yells out "The Koreans are leaving. It…yeah they climbed into a car. They are heading out." Thinh Phạm, holding a Norinco 56 in his hands, patrols an aisle and yells "What?" Quan repeats himself "Thinh! Songxie! Karen! The Koreans have left! We are in the clear! I think!" Songxie, patrolling the aisle next to Thinh, yells out "You hear that Karen?! You can crawl out now!" Entering Songxie's aisle, Thinh turns to Songxie and says "Disaster averted." Songxie nods and heaves a sigh, sitting down on the floor. Setting his Howa Type 64 on the ground, he sneezes onto the floor, wipes his nose, and says "Yea. Leave your guns and go home. Karen! You go home too! I am going home and getting a scotch. I need my medicine."

A few screams are let out behind a wooden door that says "Tiến sĩ Nguyễn (Dr. Nguyễn) in gold letters across a small black plaque. To the left of the door is a window emulating orange light. On the window edge is a clay flower pot filled with dirt and a single green steam with two leaves on top. To the right of the door is a hallway continuing on to a living room on the immediate left, the living room sporting a couch, a TV set, and a fire place, and a kitchen on a further left, the kitchen separated from the living room by a wall. Inside the kitchen, seated opposite each other on a dining table, Thongvan and Ulagammal glare at each other in silence, each holding a dark amber, glass bottle of Halida Vietnam beer. A radio sits on the table, playing "Những Ngày Nghỉ Phép" by Hùng Cường.

Taking a sip of Halida, Ulagammal shakes her head and says "I still cannot even process the idea that you are stupid enough to take the wrong exit." Thongvan shrugs his shoulders and says "I made a mistake, I know." Ulagammal rolls her eyes and shakes her head once more, asking "Did you not notice the massive sign that says 'Phan Rang'?" Thongvan shrugs his shoulders and says "If you noticed it, why didn't you tell me?" "You're the local here! If this was Phuket, then I understand. All that hard work for nothing," Ulagammal sighs, disappointed. Thongvan takes a sip of beer and says "I…actually live much further south. I only know of the city to the west and Nha Trang up north. I had to consult a map before I even reached that town." Ulagammal folds her arms and buries her head in them, saying "Whatever. 75 grand in the toilet."

Taking a sip of beer, Thongvan comments "They shouldn't have even left the house. We should have blocked both sides of the entrances and started a fire inside the house. Danh was the only one with any brains, and now he is gone. Linh and Thavisouk too." Raising her head out of her arms, Ulagammal asks "Who was that guy with the small Kalashnikov? The one that showed up last?" Thongvan shrugs his shoulders and replies "I don't know. I barely even knew those that were inside of the house. Vibol and Tuyết were the only ones I even met. It seems that Hiếu Văn Phạm liked having his hired henchmen as separate from each other as possible." "Wait, I'm confused. Are you saying that the people we attacked were a separate crew?" Ulagammal asks, visibly puzzled. Thongvan sets his beer and draws imaginary images in the table using his right hand, to illustrate his story. He says "Alright, Hiếu Văn Phạm is working with this Italian-Canadian gangster in order to make money from dumping 'recyclable' waste into the nearby ocean. He is also probably going to make money off whatever that gangster is going to do, drugs and hookers I believe. Maybe other schemes. That is why Hiếu Văn Phạm is hiring fine, upstanding folk like us in the first place, to protect his interests."

"But…okay, first. What was it with those Russians and that Laotian that Weerawat and you caught? Weerawat told me about that," Ulagammal asks. Thongvan scratches his nose and says "They were part of a boat that was staking out the garbage disposal barge. Which had the Italian-Canadian gangster on it, Tuyết, and a few freelancers which were hauling the barge. I believe those Russians were hired by Trung Thanh Hoàng, and Hiếu agrees with my input." Ulagammal extends her right hand and says "Stop. Hold on a minute. Are you talking about that man in the Vietnamese Secret Police that was either rescued or kidnapped yesterday?" Thongvan nods and says "The very same. His brother is the owner of a major newspaper. The Indochina Daily. His brother is the focal point in all of this. Chù Thanh Hoàng is his name. Chù was supposedly trying to extort the gangster over the disposal business. The story goes that one of Tuyết's henchmen was arrested and assaulted by police that were in Chù's pocket. That escalated everything."

Ulagammal shakes her head and says "I am still confused. Is Tuyết working for the general?" Thongvan grimaces and tilts his head back and forth, saying "Yes and no. She works for the Canadian gangster, who in turn works with the general. All her associates work under her. Those freelancers I mentioned earlier? They work for the Canadian gangster. They were the ones that kidnapped Trung." Ulagammal's eyes light up as she says "Holy…shit." Thongvan nods and says "It gets more complex. There were four freelancers. One permanently stays on their boat, he is a technician according to the general. Three actively participate in the grunt work. Two of those freelancers were in the house we attacked. I think it was the woman with the maroon hair and the man with the red shirt. The gangster wanted Tuyết at first to have those two freelancers killed in unsuspicious circumstances, to send the Vietnamese Secret Police on a dead end by dropping their corpses in easy to find places. Tuyết was unable to. The gangster mentioned this to our boss in the local army, and the latter then hired me, you, Weerawat, and all those others to kill Tuyết and the freelancers in one go. Apparently the gangster refused to send Tuyết to the wolves. Even considering that she and the freelancers are highly wanted by police. They participated in the Van Thirith raid."

"What…the fuck?" Ulagammal mutters, visibly in shock. Thongvan laughs and says "Want to hear the best part of all of this? That henchman that was arrested and assaulted by the police? That wasn't Chù Thanh Hoàng who gave the order, that was Hiếu Văn Phạm. The Canadian gangster is completely oblivious. The extent of Chù Thanh Hoàng's influence in the police ends with his brother, who is a glorified supply clerk. Gear from the Vietnamese Secret Police was stolen and then used by Tuyết, the freelancers, and I assume some of Tuyết's men. In the Van Thirith raid. Because Chù's brother, Trung, is responsible for equipment, and because Van Thirith sent a nail bomb at Chù, the Vietnamese Secret Police would assume that Chù is the cause of all this chaos. When actually, it is not. It is our boss that is the source."

"What the hell does Hiếu want from all of this?" Ulagammal asks, appearing nervous, her heart racing. Thongvan smiles and extends his right index finger toward the sky, saying "That is the beauty of this. All of this. How everyone, including the Canadian gangster, are being turned into idiots. Hiếu wants to embarrass the secret police, kill their funding, and get more funds diverted to the army by making it appear as if South Vietnam is vulnerable to invasion, through all of these shootouts. He wants to kill the reputation of the one man in South Vietnam capable of exposing him and the recycling scheme, which is Chù Thanh Hoàng backed by his journalists. Lastly, he wants to make it appear as if he and a few of the South Vietnamese police departments…they themselves in on this scheme…that he and those police departments 'found' the Van Thirith killers. That he and the police 'found' the people that 'rescued' Chù's brother. And that he and the police followed a fabricated Ho Chi Minh Trail of evidence and speculation and dead bodies that would 'lead' into Chù Thanh Hoàng. And when they would 'break' the case, they would all get promotions and pay raises for solving the crime of the decade."

As Thongvan beams in amusement, Ulagammal glares at him in shock and asks "Don't you think that you, and all of us for that matter, are a little over our heads here? Fuck this. This is absolute insanity. Our boss is out of his mind. After Weerawat is patched up, I'm going back to Thailand. He can come along. You too if you wise up." Ulagammal takes a gulp of beer, wetting her lips, as Thongvan takes a sip as well. He sets the beer down and cups his hands, saying "I am not going anywhere. Neither are you." Ulagammal lets out a laugh and says "Do you realize that the whole plan is probably going to fall apart? The Canadian gangster is going to find out about us, Hiếu's plan will go to the dogs…and…" Thongvan laughs, puts his hands under the table, and says "Hiếu is adept at making win/win situations."

Ulagammal pauses, and then takes a sip of beer. The radio ends "Những Ngày Nghỉ Phép" and begins a French/Vietnamese cover of the Sheila song "Non Cheri", by Thanh Lan. Ulagammal places her hands on her lap and asks "And how do you know all this? About Hiếu? About what he has been doing?" Thongvan quietly reaches under the table with his right hand, touching the grip of a Ruger P89 pistol that has been taped under the dining table. He smirks and says "Hiếu is to me as the Canadian gangster is to…"

*BANG* *BANG*

Holding the Ruger P89 in his right hand, Thongvan blinks and glares in shock as an extremely unpleasant burning sensation emits from the spot right above his crotch. Suddenly, Ulagammal rises out of her seat, Colt 1903 Hammerless pistol with wooden grips in her right hand. She glares furiously at Thongvan, aims her Colt 1903, and fires three more shots in rapid succession. The first bullet drills through Thongvan's chin, knocking his head back as blood sprays out. The second bullet punches through Thongvan's nose, repeating the effect as it exits through the back of his head, while Thongvan's dead corpse drops the pistol on the floor. The last bullet drills dead center in Thongvan's left eye, again triggering a whiplash effect as blood and brain matter spray onto the wooden floor, the last bullet ricocheting into the wooden floor.

His face a blood-drenched mess and his head arced back on the chair, blood seeping out of the back of his head, forming a puddle of blood, Thongvan's left arm twitches as his bowels relax and empty, filling the room with the stench of shit. Content that Thongvan is dead, Ulagammal slowly walks toward the doctor's office. She presses her back against the wall and creeps forward, her right arm extended. The door to the doctor's office swings open.

A somewhat short, balding, 50-something year old clean shaven Vietnamese man, dressed in a slightly blood splattered sky blue lab coat, a buttoned collared red undershirt, and black slacks, steps into the hallway, pulling off blood soaked beige plastic gloves. He says "Bây giờ, về thanh toán...(Now, about payment…)"

*BANG*

A bullet passes slightly to the right of the bridge between his eyes, exiting out of his head, carrying blood and brain matter with it as it ricochets into the window, cracking it and staining it, and the flower pot, in blood and brains. Dr. Nguyễn's head snaps backwards as his corpse falls forwards onto the wooden floor. His face flops against the floor as blood begins to pool around his head. Stepping over his corpse, Ulagammal peers into the office. She spots two long desks on the left and the right sides of the room, a row of cabinets above the desks, a few posters detailing various parts of the body, and a miniature model of a skeleton on the opposite wall, the back door next to the skeleton. Placed on a gurney, the gurney inclined upwards against his head, Weerawat lies on it, his arms dangling off the gurney and his throat completely slit. Pools of blood form on the ground under the gurney, the blood captured by plastic wrap that is spread across the floor. Shaking her head, Ulagammal approaches Weerawat, closes his eyelids with her left hand, and grimaces. She holsters her Colt 1903 under her shirt and into her slacks, wipes sweat off her forehead, and leans against the wall with the doorway. She places her hands on her face, pulls slightly on her hair, and heaves a sigh. Jogging toward the back door, Ulagammal opens it and runs to find her Yamaha motorcycle, beginning her exit out of Vietnam.

Stepping out of a wooden door, Branca on a gurney behind him, a young Vietnamese man with bushy black hair and thick black glasses heaves a sigh. An IV attached to Branca's arm connecting from a blood pack, Branca is shirtless, sedated, and covered in bandages. The Vietnamese man himself is dressed in a sky blue lab coat, a white t-shirt undershirt, and blue jeans. Standing inside a hallway, with a door in front of him and a window to the right, the window emulating a dark orange hue, the man turns left into a living room filled with two brown leather sofas, a small TV set, a VHS player, a coffee table, and a grandfather clock. Seated on the sofa, Tuyết and Ngoc wait patiently. As the Vietnamese doctor approaches the two, Ngoc gets off the sofa and asks "Anh ấy thế nào, Tân? (How is he, Tân)?" Tân grimaces and says "Nó là xấu (It is bad). Tuy nhiên, ông sẽ sống (However, he will live). Tôi đã ngừng việc chảy máu (I stopped the bleeding). Dạ dày của ông được khâu lại (His stomach is stitched up)." Pausing and trying to phrase his thoughts correctly, he adds "Tôi đã làm, tuy nhiên, loại bỏ thận của ông (I did, however, remove his kidney). Ông sẽ đi tiểu máu trong một thời gian (He will urinate blood for a while)."

Ngoc sighs and forces a smile, relieved that Branca will pull through. Tuyết pats the doctor on his right shoulder and says "Bạn đã làm rất tốt cho chúng tôi (You did very well for us). Tôi có một số tiền sắp tới (I have some money coming up). Tôi sẽ để dây bạn số tiền mà chúng tôi có hứa (I will wire you the money that we have promised). Trong một vài tuần sau đó, bạn sẽ nhận được thêm (In a few weeks later, you will get extra)." Tân smiles and bows his head at Tuyết, saying "Cảm ơn bạn rất nhiều (Thank you very much)! Tháng tới, tôi đang tham gia một kỳ nghỉ (Next month, I'm taking a vacation). Có lẽ để vùng hẻo lánh của Úc (Perhaps to the Australian outback)." As Tân nods again and turns back to attend to Branca, Tuyết watches him go.

As soon as the door is shut, Tuyết turns to Ngoc and says "Chúng tôi có một vấn đề (We have a problem)." Ngoc raises an eyebrow and replies "Tôi đang lắng nghe (I'm listening)." Tuyết grimaces and leans closer to Ngoc, whispering "Now, I did not warn Rock and Revy about this, and I don't want you to warn them either. Those people that attacked us…they were led by Thongvan. One of the other guys that work in our organization. A few of them also looked familiar. I think all of them worked for us." Ngoc glares at Tuyết as if she has three heads and asks "Cái quái gì đang nói gì (What the hell are you talking about)?" Tuyết grimaces in frustration, smacks her right ribs, and whispers "Martin Zappala tried to have us fucking killed! Thongvan works for Martin Zappala. So did a bunch of those assassins. I know they work for that general, and Martin and that general share everything."

Ngoc cracks a nervous laugh and says "Zappala would have one of his own killed…right." Tuyết smacks her forehead and says "Jake, sorry to say it, is worth less then moose shit to Martin Zappala. He is an imbecile." Ngoc snarls at Tuyết and exclaims "Fuck you!" Tuyết grinds her teeth and grabs Ngoc tightly by her right shoulder, using Tuyết's own left hand. Squeezing her shoulder, she steps closer, an inch out of Ngoc's face, and says, intentionally spraying saliva over her face as she speaks "I honestly, at this point right now, could not give a radiated shit if you ended up bleeding out on a concrete sidewalk, but right now we need to stick together. You, me, Thụ, and Min-soo. All that remains of us. Do you understand?!"

Ngoc pulls off from Tuyết and wipes her face with her right hand. Darting a dirty look at Tuyết, Ngoc says "Không làm điều đó một lần nữa (Don't do that again). And yes, I understand." Tuyết nods as says "Good. Very good. Now, you can stay here if you want. Maybe get a taxi to take you back to the village when it becomes safe to do so. Get your car. I am going to drive our 'guests' to Zappala. Remember, act like this conversation never happened. I am adopting a wait and see approach. I will act depending on what Martin does with the freelancers."

Suddenly, Tuyết's cell phone goes off. Tuyết pulls it out, looks at the caller ID, and says "Shh, it's Martin." Placing the cell phone to her head, Tuyết says "Yes? We are in the city. I will explain everything in person. We are literally in the city. Wait, what are you saying? 'Đó là một cô gái' means 'It's a girl'. Why? Huh? Oh. Thank you for sharing. Yes, that was sarcasm. Anyway, I will see you in a few minutes. Goodbye."

As Tuyết hangs up the phone, Ngoc laughs and says "He just called us. Why would he do that if he expected us dead?" Tuyết glares a disappointed look at Ngoc and says "Probably because Thongvan told him. And so…he is covering his ass. Anyway, I'm driving to the docks. Remember what I said. Bye."

Shirtless, barefoot, and in black gym shorts, Rock rests sprawled on his bed in the motel in Nha Trang. Suddenly, Revy, dressed as she was earlier, minus the Cutlasses and holsters, enters the bedroom, holding a plastic grocery bag in her right hand. She nods at Rock and says "Hey, Rocky boy. Dutch gave me this. He said Marty told him to give it to you." Rock opens his eyes and asks "What is it?" Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "All Dutch knows is that it is square-shaped and it doesn't tick."

Taking the bag from Revy, Rock opens it and finds a white, thin cardboard box. Looking at Revy, Rock says "This better not be anthrax." Revy lets out a laugh as Rock pulls the box out. He sets the box on the bed, opens it, and reveals a half eaten chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, the cake sliced around the sides until it became a square. On the cake, the vanilla frosting spells out 'Đó Là Một Cô Gái (It's A Girl)'. Rock raises an eyebrow and says "What is this…" He spots something under the cake, a photograph. Reaching under the cake, he pulls out a picture of a bald, Vietnamese man in his forties, dressed in a grey t-shirt, wrapping his arms around a Vietnamese woman in her late 30s, sporting short, black hair and dressed in a blue and red vertically stripped blouse, appearing to be in her last trimester of pregnancy. Two red lines run through the Vietnamese man's face, created by a red marker.

With a curious look on her face, Revy peeks at the photograph. Her look turning into snarling anger, she places her right hand on her forehead and says "Marty you fucking piece of work." Dropping the photograph, Rock whimpers "Oh no, no this is not…oh fuck. What have I done? WHAT HAVE I FUCKING DONE?!" Heaving a sigh, Revy mutters "Here we go again." Placing his right hand on his forehead, Rock mutters feebly "No, this is some nonsense. It isn't happening. I…what have I done?" His brain now completely on autopilot as he loses control of his bodily movements, Rock flails hysterically and yells "OH FUCK! WHAT HAVE I FUCKING DONE?! FUCK! ROKURO YOU PIECE OF SHIT! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! LOOK AT IT!"

Approaching Rock, Revy says "Look, Rock…take it…" "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! EVERYONE GET AWAY FROM ME NOW! NOW!" Rock yells out hysterically, flailing around, causing the cake to fall off the bed and land on the carpet. Rolling off the bed, he falls face first on the carpet floor. Grasping onto the bed sheet, he pulls on it and buries his face in it, sobbing hysterically. Wailing into the bed sheet, his entire body shakes as his throat dries up. "It's all ruined…it's all fucking messed up. You are so stupid, Rokuro. You are so fucking…I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF NOW!"

Pointing angrily at Rock, Revy yells "Don't fucking say that!" "FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYONE!" Rock yells in response, his hysterics continuing. Walking away from Rock and toward a bed-side drawer on the side of the bed opposite of Rock, Revy opens the drawer and pulls out an unmarked bottle of pills. She opens the bottle, pulls out two capsules, and says "Here, two amobarbitals. Take them and you will feel better." She tosses the two pills onto the bed next to Rock.

Rock quickly grabs the pills and flings them across the room, yelling "FUCK YOUR FUCKING PILLS!" Giving up, Revy says "Whatever, I'm heading out. You…don't do anything stupid. Rock…fuck whatever. See ya." She storms out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Reaching out a key, she locks the door and angrily heads toward the stairs. As she exits the motel, Revy reaches into her corduroy short pockets and pulls out a pack of Natural American Spirit and a lighter.

Pulling on the bed sheets, almost trying to suffocate himself in them, Rock pours his tears into them. His arms shaking, Rock slows down his tears and starts ventilating. His neck, eyes, and throat all sore, he stretches his arms out and reduces his tears to whimpers. Spotting the photograph next to him, Rock stares at it. With labored breaths, Rock glues his eyes to the photograph like a man possessed by his own devil. His tears slowly morphing to thunderous rage, Rock picks the photograph up and puts it to his face.

His fury past the limit, Rock bites into the photograph and tears the Vietnamese man's head off. He rips the remaining piece off with his two hands and spits the head out, yelling "FUCK YOU! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO PLAY FUCKING HERO?! FUCK YOU! IT'S YOUR FAULT! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!" He stomps at the photograph pieces, and then kicks at the cake, sending pieces all over the floor and wall. He knees at the bed, yelling "I'll kill you again! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU AGAIN! ARGH! WHY ROKURO?! YOU MANKO (CUNT) FUCK! IT'S RUINED! EVERYTHING'S FUCKING RUINED!"

A knock reverberates from the door. Behind it, the Vietnamese motel manager, dressed in a light green shirt with pockets in the front, dark green shorts, and brown sandals, yells "I am getting complaints! If you don't calm down, I will call the police!" Rock shoves his right middle finger at the door and yells "GO FUCK YOURSELF! DIE YOU…GO EAT A RAZORBLADE!" Knocking once again at the door, the manager says "I'm calling the police."

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I CARE ANYMORE?!" Rock yells out at the top of his lungs. Exhausted and hyperventilating, he sits down at the bed, his chest tape soaked in tears and saliva. He places his right hand on his forehead and peers through the cracks in his fingers.

Inside a convenience store, empty aside from the elderly Vietnamese woman at the register and herself, Revy places two bottles of Halida beer on the counter, along with a purple bag of Vinatural taro chips. The elderly woman, slightly chubby, appearing to be in her late 70s, sporting grayish white long hair tied into a ponytail, is wearing a purple t-shirt, dark green short, and brown sandals. Pulling her wallet out, Revy asks "How much?"

The elderly woman rings up the total and says "I sell for 66,900 Dong." Revy shrugs her shoulders and fishes out seven 10,000 Dong notes. As the elderly woman bags the goods and hands the bag to Revy, Revy waits to receive change. The elderly woman places, on the counter, three 1,000 Dong notes and a piece of hard, strawberry candy. Revy puts the money in her wallet and says "For me? Thanks. Oh, you are 100 Dong short."

The elderly woman points at the candy and says "That it." Revy glares at the candy, places the bag on the floor, and says "Very funny. Now give me my fucking Dong." "Excuse me?" the elderly woman replies, insulted. Revy slams her right hand on the counter, and says "Do…you…need…a…MOTHERFUCKING HEARING AID?! I said give me my change!" "No change! Register no have 100 Dong! It like penny!" the elderly woman exclaims, waving at Revy to leave her store.

Sarcastically smiling, Revy says "Oh yeah? Oh fucking yeah? I'll give you fucking penny!" She grabs the piece of candy and pegs the old Vietnamese woman in her left eye. As she yells in shock, Revy runs to the beer cooler, picks up six bottles of Halida Vietnam beer, and runs up behind the counter. "I'LL GIVE YOU A FUCKING PENNY!" Revy screams out as a few tears trek down Revy's face. She throws one of the bottles at the old lady, shattering it across her left leg. The old lady falls onto her knees and holds her arms in front of her face in surrender and anticipation. "FUCK YOURSELF NOW!" Revy screams out and tosses a second bottle, smashing it across her back, followed by a third bottle, and then a forth one. The elderly lady starts crying on floor, in great pain and extremely terrified.

Listening to the old woman's crying, Revy smashes a fifth bottle against her back. Slightly crying and filled with anger, Revy mutters "I can't this anymore. I can't fucking take it. No, fuck. FUCK YOU!" She smashes the final bottle against the back of the old woman's head, knocking her unconscious in a pool of beer mixed with blood and glass.

Wiping tears off her face, Revy returns to her bag of groceries, approaches the exit, and walks out.

Putting the guest ledger on the counter, the motel manager, seated on a cushioned chair, reaches for a beige telephone on a beige receiver. As he prepares to dial a number, the Vietnamese man feels an elbow being driven into the left side of his head. Staggered and dropping the telephone towards the floor, the telephone dangling, the Vietnamese glares at the ceiling, only to be driven nose first into the edge of the counter. Blood seeping out of his nose, the Vietnamese manager is grabbed on by his neck and tossed back first against the wall, coming face to face with Rock, the latter wearing nothing but his gym shorts, enraged, almost deranged. His M9 is in his right gym short pocket.

The Vietnamese manager, terrified, flails his arms at Rock. Rock, looking ready to tear the manager apart with his bare hands, grabs the manager's right forearm with his teeth. He presses down, agonizing the manager, and pulls back, tearing at the man's flesh. Spitting on the manager, Rock reaches his left hand at the manager's throat, jerks his head towards himself, and head butts the manager, sending him to the floor. Pouncing on top of the Vietnamese manager, Rock sticks his left index and middle finger into the manager's nostrils and pulls upward, hooking his nose. As the manager screams and as Rock glares furiously at the manager, almost possessed, the flesh on the nose begins to tear.

"CALL THE POLICE HUH?! YOU GOING TO CALL THE POLICE?! WATASHI WA CHIKAU KUSOH (I FUCKING SWEAR)! WATASHI WA ANATA O KOROS TSUMORIDA (I AM GOING TO KILL YOU)!" Rock screams out in English and Japanese, mid-process in tearing the man's nose off. He stops after watching blood slightly streak through the tear. The Vietnamese manager yells "YOU'RE AN ANIMAL! A MONSTER! Một con quái vật (A monster)! GET AWAY!"

Suddenly, Rock pulls out his M9 and aims it at the manager, the latter yelling "STOP! STOP! PLEASE STOP!" Clenching the grip in his right hand, almost crushing it, Rock presses the barrel against the manager's forehead and yells "TAKE IT! TRY AND TAKE IT! TAKE IT AND FUCKING SHOOT ME ALREADY! DO IT! FUCKING DO IT ALREADY! TAKE IT NOW! NOW!" The Vietnamese manager screams in horror, terrified out of his wits. The stench of urine twirls in the air as tears flow down the manager's eyes. Restraining himself, Rock pulls the gun out of the manager's face and walks away.

Slamming the door to his and Revy's motel room, Rock, his M9 in hand, walks into the bathroom. He glares himself in the mirror, glares at what he reduced himself into. Looking right, he spots a black bra hanging on a shower railing. Turning back to his reflection, Rock clutches tightly on his M9. He smiles at his reflection, like a deranged hobo would smile at road kill. Letting out a laugh, Rock says in Japanese "Anata wa itsumo Kitano Takeshi ni naritakatta (You always wanted to be Takeshi Kitano)." Still smiling like a madman, Rock places the M9 to the right side of his head and places his right middle finger on the trigger.

_"The truth…that regardless of who you are, of where you originated, of what you desire…that what you are capable of is EXACTLY what you will do."_

He pulls the trigger and smiles at the silence. Reaching into his left pocket, Rock pulls out the full magazine of the M9 and places it on the counter, still holding the M9 to his head. He glares at the magazine as Revy enters the room. Closing the door behind her, she comes face to face with Rock, the latter still holding the M9 to his head, turning around to face Revy.

Glaring with a stunned look at Rock, Revy mutters "Really?" His smile turning into a humiliating frown, Rock musters out "Yeah." Suddenly, he tosses the M9 to the carpet floor as Revy tackles him onto the bathroom floor, crying and punching him. "You piece of shit, Rock! You…fucking kill yourself and I will chase you through hell until I could kill you myself again! You asshole! You…" Revy empties her tears in Rock's taped chest as she punches his ribs and the ceramic bathroom floor. Crying as well, Rock cradles Revy's head in his arms and says "I'm sorry Revy. I'm so sorry. I love you." "Fuck you…you asshole…you fucking asshole…" Revy whimpers as her tears mingle with Rock's. The two grasp onto each other, both emitting labored breaths, and close their eyes.


	9. We Heard It Through The Grapevine

Dressed in wooden sandals and a dirt-stained grey robe tied by a leather belt, a leather circular badge on the robe, Rokuro Okajima, sporting long black hair split down the middle, runs up a green hill in medieval Shimazu Japan, a medieval castle in the background. Reaching the hill's summit, he overlooks the Battle of Shiroyama, as Imperial Japanese forces dressed in blue uniforms and armed with NERF super soakers open fire on the charging samurai rebels that are armored in cardboard boxes and armed with plastic swords, to the sound of pounding techno. In the distance, Rokuro Okajima could hear, as if from a megaphone, "The train to Tokyo will be arriving in 20 minutes. I repeat, the train to Tokyo will be arriving in 20 minutes."

Suddenly, Rokuro Okajima feels a tap on his right shoulder. He turns around to find Victor Jaggi, dressed in an unzipped black leather jacket, exposing his Bengali Tiger tattoo, spiked black shoulder pads, spiked dark metallic gauntlets, black leather pants, dark brown spiked combat boots, a bandolier around his waist, and a TEC-9 in a waist-side holster on the left side of his waist, his face obscured by his black samurai helmet and smiling mask, the mask featuring a fake, trimmed beard made of grey wolf hairs. On the forehead of the helmet sits a golden emblem of a yacht. Grabbing both of Rokuro's shoulders with his gauntlet clad hands, Jaggi yells out "And if it's cloudy and I find you bloody sobbing, then I shall rip your fucking head off!"

Out of nowhere, the land right behind Jaggi splits into a canyon. Laughing hysterically, Jaggi grabs Rokuro by the waist with his hands, clenches tightly, and jumps into the canyon, taking Rokuro with him. As Rokuro screams and as Jaggi laughs, their entire world plunges into darkness.

Sitting on a pair of wooden chairs opposite each other, a wooden coffee table between them, the chairs and table on a hollowed out row boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Rock, dressed in his grayish-green business suit, white dress shirt, grayish-green tie, and black dress shoes, and Chang, dressed in his trademark trench coat attire, wearing his sunglasses, each play a game of Go on a 13 by 13 board. The sun beats down on the boat, causing Rock to shield his eyes. Chang places a white pebble on the board and smirks, saying "Double Atari." As he smirks, the boat slightly rocks up and down amidst the calm, cool Pacific.

A spray of water hits Rock's face. He wipes it off and says "I…well…" "Your turn," Chang blurts out. Rock turns to his board of Go and says "Oh, I forgot. Um…atari." As he places a black pebble on the board and pulls a white pebble off the board, placing the pebble in his pocket, Chang takes a white pebble from his pocket and places it on the board "Atari again." Rock smiles as Chang takes the black pebble. Grasping onto another black pebble, just pulled from his pocket, Rock places the pebble down. After Chang placed a second white pebble, Rock quickly slams a new black pebble down and says "Crane in the nest. You fell for it. Seven pebbles down at once." Chang smiles and says "You always had the makings of a vainglorious asshole."

Smiling, Rock says "I haven't forgotten about how you 1-upped me during the fiasco with Roberta and those U.S. special forces." Chang lets out a chuckle and says "Still sore about that? C'mon, the house always wins. You know that."

Pulling on his blazer collar and pocketing the seven white pebbles, Rock replies "Ieyasu won Japan by retreating. He traded away five states for the eight that he and the Oda's successor were about the take from the Hōjō, the last enemy that they thought they shall destroy. Sacrificed the loyalties of five states for the allegiance of eight…eight remote states in the far north. Gave him an excuse not to join the Oda in the Korean invasion…prevented him getting embarrassed by it. Kind of like Go, he retreated territory to win." "Was it worth it? Atari," Chang asks, placing a white pebble on the board. "Worth what?" Rock says, placing a black pebble on the board. "This," Chang answers, placing a bent silver bullet on the board, as if it was a pebble piece.

Rock lets out a nervous laugh and asks "Are you my conscience? Seriously, I have been wondering." Chang raises an eyebrow and asks "What's a conscience?" Rock cracks a nervous smile and says "Stop playing around." Chang leans back on his chair and casually says "Out to lunch." As Rock raises an eyebrow, Chang bursts out into hysterically laughter, almost falling overboard. Looking on the row boat floor, the floor revealed to be made of cat fur, Rock sighs and says "I figured out I'm dreaming. It's not that difficult." Reducing his laughter, Chang retorts "Yeah I know. I know. Have a drink."

Turning toward the edge of the row boat, Rock ducks his head into the ocean water, experiencing a psychedelic surge of colors and patterns, glaring clearly at oddly colored fish, a sunken submarine, towers of crystal meth, and a smiling, defaced statue of the Sleeping Buddha. Pulling his head out of the water, Rock shakes his soaked head and turns to the board. Smiling, he says "Looks like I'm about to win."

"It's not that kind of game Okajima," Chang calmly blurts out. Glaring at Chang in confusion, Rock sheepishly asks "What do you mean?" Suddenly, Rock gasps as a needling pain overcomes him, his hands contorting backwards, schizophrenic whispers touching his ears. The whispers audible enough for only Rock to hear, Rock starts screaming in terror as his body succumbs to convulsions. Drawing a CZ-75, Chang aims the pistol at Rock and says "House rules. It always wins."

*Bang*

Entering their motel room, brown bag of groceries in her right hand, dressed in a dark blue tracksuit with sky blue vertical stripes on the sides of her tracksuit top and her tracksuit bottom, Revy spots Rock on the bed, stirring from his sleep. She says "My bad," and places the groceries on the shelf next to the TV set. Meanwhile, Rock, wearing only black boxers, pulls his blanket off of him and rubs his eyes with his right hand.

Removing her boots and approaching the bathroom, Revy steps inside and blurts out "Why is there a potato chip floating in the toilet?" Rock yawns and says "I dropped one on the floor. Tried to flush. Didn't work." Revy replies, slightly confused "We got a trash can." Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "Didn't want to bring out the roaches." Pulling the level, Revy flushes the potato chip down the toilet and says "It's gone."

Closing the bathroom door, Revy pulls the toilet seat down and yawns. Meanwhile, Rock climbs out of bed and reaches for a remote on a nearby drawer. Now seated at the front of the bed, Rock turns toward the television and presses a red button on the remote. The television tunes into a commercial for Vietnam Airlines. The commercial features a series of Vietnamese women walking up temple steps, dressed in multicolored áo dàidresses, holding giant leafs as trays, the leafs containing large tulips and the occasional pound of white rice. The scene suddenly morphs into a Vietnamese woman dressed in a smock and stewardess outfit, on board a fully seated airplane, serving rice and steamed vegetables from an airplane trolley cart. The commercial then immediately cuts to a blue Boeing 777 in mid-flight amongst clouds, the words "Vietnam Airlines" in white English lettering along the body of the plane, a large yellow lotus painted on the tail end of the plane.

Hearing the sound of a toilet flushing, Rock climbs off the bed and heads toward the bathroom, making little eye contact with Revy as the latter exits. As Revy hears the bathroom door close behind her, she sits down at the front end of the bed, close to the TV, and allows her thoughts to drift to the 11 O'clock news. A clean shaven Tamil man with short black hair, dressed in a grey suit, appears behind a desk, a black faded background behind him. He announces in slightly Singaporean-accented English.

"Welcome to Singapore News Asia. My name is Edward Chandran and I will be your host for this broadcast. Today is January 9, 1998. It is a crisp, comfortable breeze here in Singapore, seems to be consistent with the rest of Southeast Asia. We have developing news from the United States. Ramzi Yousef, Al Qaida operative and mastermind of the World Trade Center bombing and the Oplan Boujinka, has been sentenced to life in prison for his role in said World Trade Center bombing. Mr. Yousef, a Kuwaiti-born Pakistani who studied electrical engineering in Swansea, Wales, was arrested in Islamabad, Pakistan on February 7, 1995, through the combined efforts of American and Pakistani intelligence agencies. On February 26, 1993, a truck bomb, planted on orders from Mr. Yousef, detonated inside the garage of the Northern World Trade Center tower, killing six and injuring over a thousand. In 1994, Ramzi Yousef acquired Philippine passports in Singapore with fellow terrorist operatives, before committing several terrorist attacks on the archipelago nation. Throughout the December of 1994, Mr. Yousef detonated explosives in Cebu City and Manila, inflicting injuries on innocents, before detonating an explosive on a plane traveling between Manila and Tokyo, Japan. Mr. Yousef was believed to have left the explosive onboard the plane after exiting during a transfer in Cebu City. The explosive, detonated on a delayed timer, killed one Japanese man and injured 10 others."

Exiting the bathroom, his hair damp, Rock sits down next to Revy and watches the news. Edward Chandran continues "In January of 1995, Ramzi Yousef mastermind a plot to assassinate the Catholic Pope, John Paul the Second, during the latter's visit to the Philippines. This was to be followed by a near simultaneous series of bombings on seven major East and Southeast Asian airlines in Hong Kong, the Philippines, Taiwan, South Korea, Thailand, Japan, and Singapore, as well as on five major American airlines. The plan would have concluded with a hijacked plane crashing into the American Central Intelligence Agency in Virginia, U.S.A. Mr. Yousef was also reported to have considers plans to hijack plans and crash them into the American World Trade Center, Pentagon, and Sears Towers, as well as plans to assassinate Philippine president Fidel Ramos. The plot was mercifully foiled when terrorist operative and associate of Ramzi Yousef, Abdul Hakim Murad, accidently triggered a fire in their hideout, which ultimately led to Mr. Murad's arrest by Manila watch commander Aida Fariscal. Ms. Fariscal's actions were cited as the main instrument for the foiling of the Oplan Boujinka, and she has been credited by security agencies and governments worldwide with saving the lives of thousands, including Pope John Paul the Second. Ramzi Yousef's sentencing closes yet another of a long running line of cases involving the terror organization Al Qaida and the various terror groups operating under its umbrella, and is considered a significant victory for counterterrorism worldwide. Now, heading to news from Japan, where British Prime Minister Tony Blair is soon expected to arrive for a diplomatic visit in the nation's capital, Tokyo, breaking a four year draught between the two states."

Revy nudges Rock and says "That transport job we did for the CIA, a year ago. Was that anything to do with this Ramzi fuck?" Rock shakes his head and says "That Boujinka plot happened a year before I joined the Lagoon. I think I remember Chang saying how the president was at risk, but I'm not sure if it was the U.S. president. I think the Philippine president was the target. Fidel Ramos, again. Since the Philippines and the United States are like poker buddies." Revy lets out a laugh and says "Whose cereal did Ramos shit in? And where is our fucking medal? Ha, jerk." Rock grimaces and says "I don't think you would like the extra attention." "Oh yeah? Why not? I got my needs," Revy jokingly replies, lightly punching Rock's left shoulder. Rock cracks a weak smiles as Edward Chandran announces "Now, to Sylvia Tan for breaking news from Southern Vietnam, as details come to light involving the rash of violence in Vũng Tàu and Đà Lạt."

Appearing across the street from Trung Thanh Hoàng's house, the house sealed off with police tape and guarded by a pair of young male Vietnamese patrol cops dressed in green police uniforms, a Chinese woman with slightly short dark brown hair pulls a microphone closer to her lips. She is dressed in a dark blue women's business suit and brown high heels. Speaking in Singaporean-accented English, she says "Thank you Edward. I am standing across from the home of Trung Thanh Hoàng, a prime suspect in the Vũng Tàu shootings. Mr. Hoàng, the brother of Chù Thanh Hoàng, was arrested by agents of the Tổng Cục Tình Báo, more colloquially known as the Vietnamese Secret Police. Immediately after his arrest, armed gunman engaged fire with two sedans filled with the agents, killing all the agents. It then appeared that one car full of assailants escaped with Trung Thanh Hoàng, after a brief battle that left two policemen dead and another in critical condition. A second group of assailants carjacked a separate vehicle, killing a local plumber, Phúc Cao, in the process."

Upon hearing the driver's name, Rock grimaces and looks to the floor.

"The second group of assailants were pursued by police, running over a traffic cop in during their escape. The traffic cop died under intensive care yesterday. The assailants eluded police by crashing through several rows of greenhouses. The assailants then crashed their vehicle in a local café, before stumbling into a red Toyota Corolla. The assailants then made their escape. It is believed the first group of assailants, those that escaped with Trung Thanh Hoàng, used Mr. Cao's vehicle during the escape, while the second group used an SUV that was damaged in the firefight with the Tổng Cục Tình Báo. Trung Thanh Hoàng himself is an agent of the Vietnamese Secret Police, although any attempts to learn of his exact role with the organization have been stifled. Chù Thanh Hoàng, the owner of the Indochina Daily, is also considered a prime suspect in the Vũng Tàu shooting, which claimed the lives of Vietnamese-born Cambodian businessman and suspected mob boss Van Thirith, his Thai second-in-command Supakrit Bunyasarn, and what the Vũng Tàu police department believe to be his translator and liaison with international smugglers, Hao Diệp, along with nearly Mr. Thirith's entire organization. Yesterday night, a source that wished to remain anonymous revealed to me that the Vietnamese Secret Police suffered a theft of equipment roughly three weeks ago, and that the equipment that was reported to have been used in the Van Thirith shooting matches the equipment that was stolen. This morning, I have received details from Vũng Tàu police, who have been working in conjunction with Australian investigators, concerning the four Australian nationals also killed in the raid."

Revy smirks and says "They must be talking about Roscoe and his smuggling job with the equipment." Rock nods and says "Yep, I wonder how he got his hands on the equipment in the first place. Like, how he knew who to contact to get the stuff. It didn't sound like he usually ventures into Vietnam as of today." The TV set immediately darts back to Edward Chandran, who says "Excuse me, Sylvia. Are you suggesting that the Vietnamese Secret Police were not responsible for the Van Thirith shooting?" Cutting back to Sylvia, she says "It does appear that way. It does appear that whoever stole the equipment may have been directly or indirectly tied with those that committed the shootings in Vũng Tàu. I cannot comment any further on this matter until more details emerge."

Returning to Edward, he says "And what of the four Australians that were killed in Vũng Tàu?" Returning once again to Sylvia, she says "It has been revealed that the four Australians were engaged in a conspiracy to smuggle a significant amount of ecstasy into Vietnam. An undisclosed amount of ecstasy was found on board a yacht that was docked in Van Thirith's private pier, along with two of the dead Australians. One of the four Australian nationals killed in the raid has been revealed to be Holly Salzgeber, a notorious criminal wanted by Australian Federal Police and Interpol for three separate liquor store robberies in Sydney, New South Wales, and for the stabbing murder of Macedonian-Australian patron, Daniel Popov, in a bar in Wollongong, over a disputed game of snooker. The other three slain Australians were Felix Vermansyah, Gerald Tomlinson, and Vernon MacAllister. All three were former technicians for the Sydney Water Corporation, a New South Wales government-owned corporation that functions as a waterworks municipality. The three men quit the municipality roughly three months ago, all leaving during a two week time span. It is currently unknown how the three men became acquainted with Ms. Salzgeber."

As the TV set cuts back to Edward, Revy nudges Rock and says "The Aussie cops haven't fingered Jaggi yet." Rock nods in agreement as Edward asks "What of the shootout in the town outside of Đà Lạt?" As the TV returns to Sylvia, she answers "A red Toyota Corolla was reported to have driven away from the shootout. As such, police are suggesting that this firefight is connected with both of the previous two shootouts. Eight bodies were recovered from the shootout that occurred outside the home of Vietnamese-born Cambodian Vibol Ang. Mr. Ang himself was one of the eight slain in the firefight, along with Vietnamese national Trí Vũ. Police have not released the identities of the remaining six. Mr. Ang worked as a farmer in the Mekong Delta up until the 80s, where he relocated to work as a taxi driver in Đà Lạt. Mr. Vũ was employed in Ho Chi Minh City as a stonemason, until 1995. Neither had any prior criminal record nor connections to Van Thirith and the Hoàng brothers. As one may imagine, the police presence in Đà Lạt is as substantial as that in Vũng Tàu. The people of Vietnam may only hope that a quick resolution to this crisis is reached and that no more blood will be spilt. This is Sylvia Tan, reporting from Đà Lạt, Vietnam."

"Fuck, here I was hoping to put a name to those assholes that attacked us," Revy bemoaned. Rock scratches his chin and says "I'm going to think on this." Revy shrugs and says "I figured. Now while you think, can you go to the grocery around the corner? I would go myself but I kind of put the old hag that runs the place into the hospital. So I'm keeping my outdoor strolls to a minimum. They have good beers, by the way. And get pizza from the pizzeria next door. Two slices of pepperoni and a set of garlic knots. And some parmesan cheese packets." Rock turns to Revy and asks "When did you put the owner into the hospital?" "Three days ago," Revy replies, slightly bitter. "Ohh," Rock mutters, feeling meek. "You know…" Revy mutters "you know we had to bribe the motel manager to keep his mouth shut. That's seven grand coming out of your pay."

Frowning to himself, Rock meekly says "Revy…sorry about how I cursed you out. And for my…antics. My…sorry." Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "Whatever, it's done. I just want to get back to Roanapur already. This place is starting to piss me off."

Climbing off the bed and reaching for a pair of brown shorts, Rock meekly asks "You want two slices of pepperoni and garlic knots, right?" Revy nods and rests her back on the bed, saying "Yeah…yeah." She looks to the ceiling and closes her eyes. Putting on his black and white plaid dress shirt and brown shorts, and reaching for a set of brown leather sandals, Rock says "I'll be back." As he prepares to leave, Revy turns to Rock, frowns, and says "Um…thanks." Rock nods in response and exits the motel room. Walking down the stairs with his hands in his shorts pockets, Rock steps on the main lobby. He barely resists making eye contact with the motel manager, the latter reading a newspaper, oblivious to Rock, sporting a couple bandages on his face. Approaching the exit, Rock steps through the doors and lets the Nha Trang breeze tickle his face.

Walking westward on Tuệ Tĩnh Street, Rock passes an assortment of motels, cafes, and convenience stores. A middle-aged Vietnamese woman wearing a white surgical mask, a short brimmed rice hat, a white sweater, gray gloves, and black pants, climbs onto a blue bicycle parked somewhat rudely in front of a café entranceway. She gently peddles the bicycle off the sidewalk and then merges with the light traffic, being flanked on her left by a blue GAZ-53 flat bed truck loaded with propane gas tanks, a red sign on the back of the truck saying 'Nguy hiểm! (Danger)'. Pressing onward, he passes a few more motels and a huge, whitish blue colored hotel that has the word 'Starlet' on the roof in blue lettering. After passing a large grocery store, eying the pears, grapefruits, and bananas on the front displays, Rock spots the same convenience store that Revy entered three days ago, the convenience store named in brown lettering 'Bia và Khói (Beer and Smokes).'

Stepping inside the convenience store, Rock spots a Vietnamese man in his early 20s slouching on the counter, sporting wavy black hair and wearing a light purple t-shirt and brown cargo shorts. Besides the two men, the store is devoid of life. Next to the Vietnamese man, a brown radio with a raised metallic antenna plays a live Vietnamese news conference. The broadcast plays a female reporter asking a question "Trung Tướng Vinh (Lieutenant General Vinh), ba cá nhân đã được tìm thấy đã chết trong một văn phòng lâm sàng tại Phan Rang (three individuals were found dead in a clinical office in Phan Rang)." A slightly deep male voice, the voice of Lt. General Vinh, says "Có, chúng tôi được biết (Yes, we are aware)." Taking notice of the radio and the cashier, Rock searches and discovers the beer cooler. While he is fishing out four amber bottles of Hanoi Beer, the female reporter says on the radio "Là những người ba cá nhân liên quan trong vụ thảm sát ở Đà Lạt? (Were the three individuals involved in the massacre in Đà Lạt)?"

Placing the beers on the counter, Rock gestures at the Vietnamese man to wait, as Lt. General Vinh answers "Vâng (Yes). Chờ ... thực sự không (Wait...actually no)." As Rock picks up a brown box of Klennex tissues, the Lt. General elaborates in a slightly annoyed tone "Chúng tôi đã không phát hiện ra bất kỳ bằng chứng cụ thể (We have not discovered any concrete evidence)." Placing the box of tissues on the counter, Rock turns to the Vietnamese man and asks "How much?" The Vietnamese man mutters under his breath, glaring at the wall behind Rock "Oh xin vui lòng cho tôi một cuộc gọi sớm (Oh please give me a call soon)." Rock glares at the cashier and says "Um…excuse me?" The Vietnamese man snaps out of his daze and says in Vietnamese-accented English "Oh…sorry. Uh…115,000 Dong."

Fishing out five 20,000 Dong notes, a 5,000 Dong note, and five 2,000 Dong notes, Rock hands the cash to the cashier and says "Exact change. First time that happened to me here all trip." The Vietnamese man cracks a smile and lets out a pained laugh, saying "Cảm ơn bạn. Thanks. Sorry, grandmother got pain. In a…coma I think. Attack by some animal. Some robber. Was in a coma, really. Now okay…I'm waiting for a call from her. Sorry, bad English." Rock gives a nervous, awkward frown and says "It's better than my Vietnamese, that's for sure." The Vietnamese man nods at Rock and asks "Where you from?" "J…Thailand. I live there," Rock awkwardly says. The Vietnamese man nods and says "Cool, cool. You follow news?" Rock awkwardly nods and says "Yea, I have been." The Vietnamese man gestures his elbow at the radio and says "Media thing with commander of secret police, Director Vinh." Curious, Rock asks "Anything new that wasn't revealed before?" The Vietnamese man raises an eyebrow and asks "Reveal…?" Rock relaxes his body and asks "Is there anything new that Vinh said, that wasn't announced before?" The Vietnamese man shakes his head and says "Nothing interesting. They look into theft of equipment still after that supply clerk Trung Thanh Hoàng got taken, same as before." Rock nods at the Vietnamese man and says "Oh, I see. Can I have a plastic bag?" The Vietnamese man carefully stuffs the beer and tissues into the plastic bag and hands the bag to Rock, saying "Have a good day." "Thanks," Rock replies, exiting the convenience store.

Turning left, Rock steps into a next door pizzeria called "Mussolini's." Laughing to himself at the name, Rock steps through the front door into a slightly dirty and cramped pizzeria, the counter showing several large metallic plates behind glass sheets, most of the plates empty, three with actual pizza. Two of the plates feature a calzone each. On the wall to the right, a few neon-lit signs display the menu in black Vietnamese lettering. Two Vietnamese men operate the front of the pizzeria, one in his late 70s with long, graying hair and a thin, wiry beard, the other in his early 50s with thick, wavy black hair and thick eyebrows. Both are dressed in slightly dirty and sauce stained chef's clothes, jeans, and caps of Becamex Bình Dương F.C. To the left of the counter, Rock could spot a row of six tables, one of them occupied by a 30-something year-old Vietnamese woman dressed in a light blue buttoned shirt and dark blue jeans, sporting short black hair, and what appears to be her 4 year old daughter, the little girl saying "Pizza!" Her mother smiles and nods, saying "Vâng, vâng (Yes, yes). Bánh pizza." Behind the tables is a swinging door that leads to a small kitchen.

Approaching the counter, Rock glances at the slices, two half gone cheese pies and a lone slice of a cheese pie topped with mint and chả lụa, a form of Vietnamese pork that looks like very light pink liverwurst. He immediately notices that the slices appeared to have been reheated multiple times to the point of inedibility. He turns to the younger of the two Vietnamese men and asks "Can I have two slices of pepperoni and a set of garlic knots?" The Vietnamese man thinks for a second, and then says in Vietnamese-accented English "We're out of pepperoni." Rock raises an eyebrow and says, in disbelief "How can you be out of pepperoni?" The Vietnamese man shrugs his shoulders and repeats "We're out of pepperoni." Annoyed, Rock inquires "Do you have garlic knots?" The Vietnamese man pauses and says "We got garlic bread. Fresh. It will take 5…maybe 10 minutes. That alright?" Rock nods and says "Sure, alright. And can I get two slices of that…actually…not…actually no again. I'll get two plain cheese slices. Heat them up good." The Vietnamese man grabs a small metallic pizza spatula with a wooden handle, lifts up two of the slices, slightly awkwardly carries them to a metallic pizza oven, and tosses them inside. He closes the oven and turns around, asking "That all?" Rock thinks for a second and asks "Can I see the menu?" The Vietnamese man glances at Rock and says "We're out of menus." "You're out of menus?" Rock asks, very confused. The Vietnamese man shrugs and says "We're out of menus."

Exhaling a sigh, Rock mutters under his breath "Whatever…" After half a minute of bizarrely awkward silence, the Vietnamese man says "That will be 62,000 Dong." "Six-two?" Rock speaks back, seeking clarification. The Vietnamese man nods and says "Yep." Fishing out a 50,000 Dong note, a 10,000 Dong note, and a 2,000 Dong note, Rock hands the money to the Vietnamese man, who rings up the register. As the Vietnamese man places the money in the register, he says "Listen buddy, if I have, I would have sold you it. It's just this teenager who used to work for us, I fired her for stupidity and she stole most of my pepperoni, most of my menus, and other stuff, and I have to wait for the next shipment. So that's why. All she had to do was take inventory and sign off on the next shipments. Who knew that there are people that can't even work as a supply clerk?!" Muttering under his breath, he adds "Vô dụng chó (Useless bitch)." Rock nods and says "Hmm," as the Vietnamese man prepares to retrieve the pizza from the oven.

A slightly tanned skinned Cambodian man in his early 20s exits the rear kitchen of the pizzeria, holding a brown bag in his hands. He turns to the younger Vietnamese man and slightly yells in Khmer-accented Vietnamese "Tỏi bánh mì (Garlic bread)!" The younger Vietnamese man grabs the bag and says "Cám ơn (Thanks)." He places the bag on top of a plain, small pizza box, and hands Rock the goods. Rock places the bag of garlic bread in his grocery bag, adjusts the grocery bag into his left hand, and grabs the pizza box with his right. As he prepares to leave, he suddenly remembers and asks "Sorry. Can I get a couple of bags of parmesan cheese?" The Vietnamese man shrugs his shoulders and says "We're out of parmesan cheese." Rock glares at the Vietnamese man and asks "Why are you even open?" The Vietnamese man shrugs his shoulders once more and says "We're out of parmesan cheese."

Exiting the pizzeria, Rock approaches a green colored bench and sits on it. He places the bag of groceries and the pizza box at his side. Pulling out his cell phone, Rock exhales a sigh and says "Thanks for the assistance, Mussolini." Quickly pushing a few buttons on the ornery, metallic pad, Rock waits several seconds, before looking at the slightly cloudy sky in relief. "Minnesota?" Rock speaks into the phone.

Sitting on a lawn chair on the nearby beach, a half eaten glass of 'Bloody Murder' on the sand next to him, dressed in a white buttoned, collared leisure shirt, dark blue slacks held up by a black, leather belt, Dutch, barefoot, raises an eyebrow and says "What?" Frowning anxiously and looking left and right, Rock says "It's the Emperor." Dutch laughs and asks "Does he have new clothes? Look, Rock…" Reclining on his lawn chair, Dutch continues "I'm drinking a cocktail that is genuinely three parts gin, six parts tomato juice, and is drizzled on with black vinegar and fucking wasabi sauce. I don't even know how I'm keeping it down. Anyway, what's up?"

Smiling in relief, almost yelling out 'finally', Rock answers with a question "Has our friend with the barbecue sauce stain showed up?" Dutch thinks for a few seconds, and then, realizing, says "I'm at the beach, can't say. Don't figure, he said he'd be at mission control in…um…about half-an-hour. Why?" Thinking of an appropriate way to phrase things, Rock pauses for a bit and then says "Remember that friend of the guy with the stain? The guy with the littering?" "Once more, in actual English," Dutch requests, growing annoyed. Rolling his eyes, Rock tries again "The one who gave Spartacus two thumbs down." Thinking for a second, Dutch says "Uh…the one with the bump on the head?" Remembering back to Trung's kidnapping, Rock slowly nods and says "Yeah…him." "Well why didn't you say that at first, instead of talking about this littering bullshit? What about him?" Dutch asks, reaching for his glass of Bloody Murder, both a fork and a straw in the cup. As Dutch skewers a pit-less green olive and devours it, Rock answers "Our friend with the stain said he was buckshot, when I just found out he is birdshot. Low caliber." Dutch laughs and says "That made no damned sense but I think I know what you mean. Alright, I'll head back, and we'll talk and walk."

Listening to music on her MP3 player, headphones on, Revy rocks her head to "Go to Hell" by English heavy metal band Motörhead. She is seated on the bed and partially watching, on TV, the white English subtitles of the Vietnamese film _**"Hà Nội Trong Mắt Ai (Hanoi In One's Eye)."**_ A knock reverberates from the door, followed by another. Barely hearing the 2nd knock, Revy pauses her MP3 player and approaches the door. She grabs a Cutlass by the TV cabinet with her left hand and reaches for the doorknob with her right. Turning the knob, Revy slowly opens the door, only to immediately return her Cutlass to the cabinet as Rock enters the room with the groceries and the box of pizza.

"Two slices of cheese pizza and garlic bread," Rock announces "plus Viet beer." Flooding with annoyance, Revy says "I asked for freaking pepperoni and knots." "They were out of pepperoni and garlic knots," Rock retorts. Raising an eyebrow and looking at Rock as if just grew a third head, she asks "How can they be out of pepperoni and garlic knots?" Shrugging his shoulders, Rock says "They were out of pepperoni and garlic knots." Opening the box of pizza, Revy sits down on the bed and rests the box on her lap. Pulling out a slice, she takes a bite, chews it, stares at the sky with a blank look on her face, and then swallows, saying "It tasted as it looked. Like it came out of Bigfoot's asshole. Where's the parmesan cheese?"

"They were out of parmesan cheese," Rock blankly replies, almost in a mocking tone. Giving a Rock a pissed off look, she says "They were out of parmesan cheese. Riiight." Now restraining a laugh, Rock replies "They were out of parmesan cheese." Cracking a bemused smile, Revy says "Fetch me a beer dickhead." "Yes ma'am," Rock mutters with a smirk, pulling out an amber bottle of Hanoi Beer. Handing the bottle to Revy, Rock watches as Revy places the box on the floor, turns to a drawer near her pillow, retrieves a bottlecap opener, and unseals the beer in three quick turns of the opener. Taking a sip of the beer, Revy asks "Didn't get anything for yourself?" Rock grimaces and tilts his head left and right. He says "They didn't even have menus." "What kind of fuckhead pizzeria was that?" Revy blurts out, taking another sip. Restraining a smile, Rock cheekily answers "I don't know, but that place was pretty fascist."

As he watches Revy chew on garlic bread washed down in moderately chilled beer, Rock collects his thoughts and says "By the way…I spoke with the guy in the grocery store. Not about you." Revy pays attention and says "Yeah?" "Marty lied to us," Rock blurts out, as if Marty just crawled up Rock's own ass and died. Shrugging her shoulders, Revy asks "Yeah? Bout what?" "Trung. The guy that Marty made us…rescue," Rock answers, folding his arms and seating himself on the bed. Annoyed, Revy yells out "Hey dipshit, you plan on telling me or you rather just speak in crossword hints all day?" Rubbing his forehead and pouting his cheeks, Rock nervously says "He said Trung was so high up in the Tổng Cục Tình Báo that he might as well have orbited the earth. Well I spoke with the cashier in the grocery, and he was listening into some radio press conference. I asked him about details in an innocent manner. In the process, he mentioned how Trung is…was…just a supply clerk. I'm confused…why would Marty lie about that? It's really strange."

Gazing in deep thought at a piece of roasted garlic bread, her right hand slightly stained in grease, Revy calmly says "That guinea is arriving any minute now. We'll ask him when he shows up. You should tell Dutch and Benny while you still have time." Rock nods and says "I already called Dutch but I didn't tell him any details. The two of us are going to go for a smoke when he gets back." Someone knocks on the door. From behind it, Dutch says "It's your boss. Rock, you there?" Rock turns to Revy and says "See ya. Stay safe." Revy snorts and says "Yea, food poisoning ain't nothing to fuck with."

As Rock opens the door to Dutch, who is now wearing grey sandals, the latter says "Revy, you coming too. Benny is reserving my seat at the beach. I think it is best if we all are equally up to speed." Revy waves her boss off and says "Rock gave me a teaser, so I think I know what is going on. Besides, someone's gotta hold down the fort, for when Marty crawls in here. I'll follow your lead, boss. Like always." Dutch nods and says "Alright, you do that. Rock, with me."

Walking on the sidewalk, heading toward the Nha Trang beach, Dutch pulls out a pack of Natural American Spirit and fishes out a cigarette. He is noticeably limping with each step of his left leg. Placing the cigarette in his mouth as a nearby Vietnamese bicyclist almost gets sideswiped by a quickly braking white van, Dutch says "Woah, that was a close one." Pulling out a lighter as Rock pulls out a pack of Craven A's, Dutch lights his cigarette and asks "You smoke Craven's now?" Cigarette in mouth, Rock shakes his head and says "Nah, I let Revy have my last pack of Natural Spirit. They didn't have Spirit here so I just got these."

As Rock pulls out a lighter of his own and lights his cigarette, Dutch takes a drag, exhales, wedges his cigarette in his right hand, and says "Rock…Michigan. Ann Arbor, Michigan. Not Ann Arbor, Minnesota." Rock grimaces and says "Sorry, like I said many times before…American geography ain't my strong suit. I can tell you the capital of Okinawa if you'd like." "Naha. We covered a little bit of the Pacific War before I was deployed," Dutch calmly blurts out, as the two pass a trio of Vietnamese men and a Vietnamese woman in hard hats pushing a refrigerator into a store that is in mid-renovation. "I see," Rock blankly mutters as they approach a crosswalk, both holding their cigarettes in their respective right hands.

With the traffic light turning green and the pedestrians stirring to movement, Dutch and Rock begin to cross the street. As they cross, Dutch takes another drag and says "By the way. Buckshot and birdshot are not calibers for ammunition. They refer to the size of the pellets in the rounds." Rock nods, exhales smoke, and says "Yeah I know. Revy explained that to me. I just assumed it's the same as the word caliber." Dutch nods to himself and says "Alright I get it now. I'll explain how 'caliber' works sometime later."

Reaching the bar that they visited several days ago, where Revy got drunk off Vietnamese wine, Rock and Dutch walk up to the square shaped bar and place their elbows on the counter. A Chinese bartender with bushy black hair and thin, grey framed glasses turns to them and says in Vietnamese-accented English "Hey. How was the cocktail?" Dutch cracks a weak smile, removes his sunglasses, and says "Disgusting, but that's because I was stupid enough to drink gin and wasabi sauce. Not your fault." The Chinese bartender smiles meekly and says "Sorry, that's just how everyone was taught in bartending school. That drink was very standard." Dutch nods and says "Yeah I know. I had a Bloody Mary before and was getting nostalgic, but of course that was just vodka, tomato juice, and a celery stick. Guess I got too adventurous." The Chinese bartender waves his right hand and says "Hey, I can make that if you want. Any drink combination, how you want it." Dutch removes his elbows off the counter and shakes his head, giving a slightly discomforted look. He says "Nah, I just want something to wash the taste down. Do you have any juices, pop…anything interesting?"

The Chinese bartender thinks for a second, snaps his fingers, and then says "Alright, we recently got some fresh coconut from the market. Usually we use them for cocktails. I can make a hole in them and put a straw through the hole. You want? It will cost as much as a glass of regular juice." Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "Alright. One." The Chinese bartender turns to Rock and says "And you?" Rock quickly replies "Cold sake. Chilled. I prefer Ginjo." The Chinese bartender turns to face the shelf, and turns around, saying "We only got Okunomatsu." Rock smiles and points at the bartender, saying "Yeah that be great." The Chinese bartender says "35,500 Dong for the juice, 85,500 for the sake."

As Rock and Dutch place their cigarettes in their mouths and fish out Dong notes, the bartender gets to work preparing their drinks. Placing the money on the counter, Dutch and Rock watch as the bartender collects the money and gives two 500 Dongs notes to Rock and Dutch, respectively. As both Rock and Dutch pocket the Dong and take drags from their cigarettes, Rock motions to Dutch and says "You now got me nostalgic. I haven't had sake in several months."

Seated on a nearby lawn chair, shirtless and slightly wet, dressed in red and green lotus patterned swimming trunks and brown sandals, Benny waves at Rock and Dutch, can of Hanoi Beer in left hand. Approaching Benny, drinks in their right hands and cigarettes in their left, the two seat themselves on the empty lawn chair that Dutch formerly occupied. Taking a sip of sake, Rock comments "Drinking sake out of a tumbler glass…interesting." "Where's Revy?" Benny inquires, rubbing the can of beer across his forehead. Putting on his sunglasses, coconut in right hand and cigarette in left, Dutch says "She's holding the fort, and she got the abridged version. So it's just us men here at the war council." Raising an eyebrow, Benny says "Well that escalated."

"It's not guaranteed," Rock blurts out, taking a drag of his cigarette "just I found out that Marty's been lying about a detail that he would normally have no reason to lie about." "What's up?" Benny asks, leaning forward. Leaning forward as well, Rock says in a quieter volume "Trung, that guy we kidnapped for Marty a few days ago? Marty said that he is, was, something…high ranking in the secret police." Dutch nods and says "I fondly remember Mr. Zappala telling us how Trung became our second moon." Rock smirks and says "Yeah, that. Well I just found out from a local, who translated a live news conference for me, that Trung was some low rank supply clerk for the secret police. That he was the guy that takes inventory for the equipment that they use in actual raids."

"The very same equipment we wore during the Van Thirith raid," Dutch interrupts, as Rock and Benny nod in surprised agreement. Sipping on beer, Benny says "Your war friend Roscoe…Roscoe Ward…he got the equipment to Marty. It didn't sound like Roscoe broke into the secret police armory…I mean if he could do that, he should be working for Thailand's intelligence agency, not selling surfboards to stoned tourists."

"So you don't think Roscoe stole the equipment," Dutch says to Benny, partially as a question. Benny shakes his head and says "Nah…too risky and it makes no sense. Thailand and Vietnam are separated by Cambodia. I infer more than a few unhappy memories in that country between you and Roscoe." Sipping on his straw, Dutch asks "Do you think Trung sold the equipment to Roscoe?" Rock laughs and says "If he did, that would make for one hell of an ironic anecdote." Benny shrugs his shoulders and says "Doubt it was a direct sale. I reckon they divvied up the pieces of the equipment along different smuggling routes, having it pass through a couple of hands. If Trung had any brains, he would do it that way…to avoid it coming back to him. Ironically the gear went straight back into Vietnam anyway." "Someone besides Trung could have stolen the equipment, someone else within the secret police," Rock interrupts. Benny nods and says "True, there's that."

Taking a long sip of coconut water, Dutch says "I'm going to give Roscoe a call on an outside line. Hopefully he doesn't hang up twenty times in a row. Any other ideas?"

The three enter a short period of silence, as a seagull caws over their heads, shitting on a sky blue colored parasol. Noticing it, Rock says "Well that's a pleasant sight." Benny smirks and says "That umbrella got good luck." Raising an eyebrow, Dutch asks "Eh?" Cracking a weak smile, Benny playfully chirps "Don't worry about it."

After another pause, Benny says with a lack of confidence "Well…I…usually in these cases, when something like this is unexplained…you got to either follow the money or find the woman." Smirking, Dutch says "And since Pattaya beach hookers consider themselves too classy for Marty's Bolognese-flavored kielbasa, I would keep my eyes on the money." Chuckling, Benny says "That…very well said. Astute. Now where does money factor into this?"

"Dutch…" Rock mutters, in deep thought "what is the status of our payments for the previous two assignments? The money transfers I mean." Dutch turns to Rock and asks "You mean did we get paid for the jobs?" Rock silently nods, scratching his chin. Rubbing the back of his bald head, Dutch says "Interesting now that you mention it. The 50 grand from the first job was apparently 'enroute' to our Panamanian banker's intermediaries, as soon as we all headed for the Van Thirith dock raid. Yet, it somehow took until two days ago for our banker to tell us that he received the money. The 25 grand from the second job? Arrived yesterday, barely 12 hours after the 50 grand, despite the second job happening two days after the first, and despite Zappala saying that the money was enroute while my leg was getting patched up. Which may mean bullshit, or it may mean that Zappala didn't actually send the money when he said he did. Given what we remember with those carpets and that plastic wrap in the bathroom at the safe house, someone was playing some angle. Was it Marty?"

Gesturing his glass of sake at Dutch, taking a long gulp, Rock swallows and says "I think I mentioned before…Tuyết's attitude towards Revy and I swayed back and forth during the two days we were in the safe house. Granted, Revy went ballistic during day one, and a violent Vietnamese hit squad showed up unannounced on day two, but it's those carpets that still make me worry. Who stuffs carpets under a sink?"

Nodding at Rock, taking a drag of his cigarette, Dutch says "And by the way…as I currently recall, with slightly shaky confidence, that Zappala told me where our pay came from. It was while we were setting up Zappala's people with our Panamanian banker's friends. Marty asked his boss in Vancouver to send the 50 grand aboard a Boeing passenger jet. Basically Marty had some lawyer give his boss our pay so he could have it smuggled to Panama. Marty's boss gave half a dozen friends a discounted trip to Panama City, so long as they each carried a portion of the 50 grand that was below the limit that tourists need to report in Canada. Panama had no issue, it has the exact same limit as Canada for declarations, cept they count it in U.S. currency rather than Canadian cash, but I'm getting off track. Point is, those guys then immediately met our banker's associates at the airport in Panama City, and the associates got the money to our banker. Same with the 25 grand for the second job. All in all, it shouldn't take a few days to do this. The plane ride itself is like 9 hours, tops. Marty said the tickets were bought last minute but since the Christmas and New Year holiday season already passed, I highly doubt airfare tickets to Panama were low in supply. There are too many question marks involved."

"You thinking about calling it quits and heading back home?" Benny inquires, sipping on his beer. Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "We already made 75,000. That is enough for us to stay comfortable until at least March, assuming we get a dry spell with assignments, which I doubt since Thinh is probably going to hire us. Even with factoring food, rent, repairs, doctor's bills, we will be fine. That's 17…18,750 for all four of us, including Revy. I am perfectly fine calling it quits here and heading home. In fact, this has been one of most profitable weeks since I started this courier company. My thought process is…I am going to confront Marty. If my concerns aren't assayed, we are leaving for Roanapur."

"Got it boss," Benny blurts out. "Same, I'm with you Dutch," Rock adds, as the three of them simultaneously drink to a successful round table negotiation. Awkwardly swallowing the sake, Rock gags and says "Time we head back before Marty and Revy get left in the same room. Not like Revy needs a reason."

Dressed in a horizontally-striped blue and white t-shirt with a buttoned collar, slightly ripped jeans, and grey sneakers, Martin Zappala enters the front lobby of the motel. Behind him, Lloyd Vitelli follows Zappala's lead, dressed in a dark blue and red checkered, collared, and buttoned shirt, light blue jeans, brown tennis shoes, and a grayish-blue felt ascot cap. As he also enters the front lobby, Lloyd removes his cap and holds it in his left hand. The two nod at the manager at the front desk, who acknowledges the presence of the two Italian-Canadian gangsters. Tossing his newspaper aside, the manager collects his thoughts as the two gangsters pause and wait. After a slightly tense moment, the manager asks "How much longer?" Marty cracks an annoyed smirk and says "Soon. Very soon. Take it easy." The manager catapults a distressed look toward Marty, coldly saying "I want them gone by the twelfth." "Monday?" Vitelli calmly asks. Pausing for a few seconds, the manager partially commits to a nod, saying "Yes. Monday." Slightly annoyed and still smiling, Marty says in a tense manner "You'll get your wish. Think of it…as my early Viet New Years gift to you."

As the manager slowly returns to his newspaper, Marty and Lloyd turn their attention to the staircase leading to the second floor. Traversing the steps, the two approach room 22. "Give me some space here," Marty says, as Lloyd backs off and presses his back against the opposite wall. Shrugging his shoulders, Marty knocks on the door, saying "Hey Rock. Rocky boy. It's your favorite Polish Santa!"

Inside the room, Revy, dressed in a black tank top and her dark blue tracksuit bottom, MP3 player headphones in her ears and MP3 player in her left hand, head bangs to "Wrathchild" by English heavy metal band Iron Maiden. She completely fails to register Marty's presence. Waiting a few more seconds, Marty knocks four times on the door, and then yells "C'mon Rocky! I know you Japs are a little eccentric when it comes to the fine art of pornography but please wedge the tentacle shaped dildo out your ass and get to work! There's a time and place for that!" Still, Revy fails to register anything aside from the music in her ears. After several seconds with no response, Marty proceeds to bang his fist repeatedly on the door and yells "You better open this door Rocky Japboa, or I'm gonna huff and I'm gonna puff and I'm gonna SHOVE MY DICK SO FAR THROUGH YOUR EYE SOCKET THAT YOU'LL HAVE FRONT ROW SEATS TO YOUR BRAIN GETTING _SKULL FUCKED_!"

Suddenly, the door knob turns as Marty cracks a smile, only to grow slightly nervous as the barrel of Revy's Cutlass presses into Marty's forehead. "Oh shit!" Lloyd exclaims, lifting up his shirt and pulling a Glock 19 out of a hip holster. Aiming the Glock at Revy with his right hand and holding his cap in his left hand, Lloyd steadies his aim as Revy slightly shifts to her left, somewhat using Marty as a human shield. Snarling at Marty, aiming with her left hand, Revy says "If you fucking yell at me like that again, then I'm gonna send a bullet through your coked up piggy skull and fuck your brains with a strap-on." Raising his arms in surrender, his arms just at level with his shoulders, Marty mutters "I can't tell whether I'm freaked out or turned on." As he starts laughing, Revy rolls her eyes and says "Hey Lloyd, pull your gun away and I'll do the same." Marty motions at Lloyd and says "Holster it. She ain't that retarded." As Lloyd holsters his Glock, Revy darts an annoyed smirk at Marty and says "You're pushing it again…"

She lowers her Cutlass and says "Dutch and the others are out. Why you asking for Rock?" Marty smiles and raises his shoulders, saying "Why not, he's a lovable guy. Needs a haircut though. Looks like a mop head." Revy darts back "Nice beard. Trying to become the first living Chia-Pet?" Tilting his head to the side, Marty asks "Are…you missing a tooth?" As Lloyd chuckles to himself, Revy rolls her eyes, tilts the palm of her hands upwards, and says "Knocked loose when I crashed your SUV, back in that city. Forgot its name."

"What's going on here?" Dutch bellows as he climbs onto the second floor. Benny and Rock pass Dutch and flank his left, as Marty says "Nothing. I came here to chat about the last job I got for you." He heads into Revy's room, only to be followed by Lloyd. Dutch, Rock, and Benny crowd through the door and find Lloyd standing by the opposite wall, hands cupped and in front of his waist, cap in hand. Seating herself on the bed, Revy crosses her legs and places her Cutlass on the bed sheet. Marty stands in front of the powered down TV. Rock seats himself to the left of Revy and Dutch and Benny stand in the wall opposite of Lloyd, both of them leaning their backs against the wall.

"Is it safe to turn this TV on? I'm not gonna get some tentacle shit, right?" Marty asks, his right index finger hovering in front of the power button. "Don't be a wise ass," Revy commands as Marty pushes the power button. The TV screen powers on to play a music video of "Ông Lái Đò" by Hùng Cường. The video shows a Vietnamese man in a purple suit solemnly singing into a microphone on a dimly lit stage, with a drummer and a bassist behind him.

Turning toward Black Lagoon Company, Marty says "Alright...let's state the obvious here. Anyone shoots anyone, and we all are going to get imperially fucked. As in police will come for us. So…no one do anything stupid. Just saying." Dutch leans forward and says "I take it your military friend is not out there to save your ass." Marty cracks a weak smile and mumbles "Heh, heh. He has an image to maintain." "Why did you lie about Trung Thanh Hoàng?" Rock suddenly blurts out, making a power play in this tense standoff. Smiling to himself, scratching his beard, Marty raises both his eyebrows and says "Hmm." "Are you gonna say something?" Dutch groans under his breath, loud enough for Marty to barely hear. Flashing a shit-eating grin at Dutch, Marty says in an elaborate, almost grating manner "I don't know what you found out. I'm just a little curious as to what you got to say. Please, enlighten this hairy bastard."

Calmly speaking out, Benny pushes his glasses inward "We're talking about how you embellished Trung's status as a high ranking agent. When he is just a supply clerk. And there is the matter of how you delivered money to our banker in suspicious intervals." "And," Rock blurts out "the carpets that were in Vibol's house. In the bathroom. Two carpets. I find that number suspicious. But like you said, don't do anything stupid. So it seems like the smart thing to do is for us to head back home."

His left eye twitching, Dutch angrily groans "Rock, shut the fuck up. I make that decision, not you. Clear?" Grimacing, Rock extends his arms out in surrender and says "Clear sorry, won't happen again." Stepping forward to Marty as Lloyd stiffens up in anticipation, Dutch points at Marty and says "But Rock is saying what I'm saying. So is Benny. If we don't get answers, we're leaving. You are bad for business."

Tapping his right foot, Marty asks "Where did you hear about Trung being a supply clerk?" Smirking, Dutch says "We heard it through the grapevine." "As in, it's been on the news and some grocery cashier with enough English told me," Rock blurts out, immediately afterwards turning to Dutch to see if he made a mistake. "And the irregular money deposits and the carpets?" Marty inquires. Still staring at Dutch, who turns to Rock and gives him the green light, Rock turns to Marty and says "I found the carpets myself. And the money transfer thing…we figured out today."

Shrugging his shoulders, Marty masks his anxiety and casually weaves a response "The irregular money deposits…I delayed because I opened myself to the not-so-fucking-remote possibility that any four of you fine gentlemen get the plug pulled. If you die, I don't pay you. I didn't try to make that happen. I just kept the option on the table. No offense. And as for the carpets, same thing. You die, you become a piece of meat. I thought leaving your corpses for the cops to find would make the secret cops relax themselves, thinking that they found the link to Chù Thanh Hoàng. That they found the Van Thirith hit squad and Trung's rescue team, which you guys actually are. They then would be spending their time beating the meat trying to find a connection with you and Chù while the rest of us could catch our breath and figure out what to do with Trung. Again, only if one or two of you got clipped. Again, just keeping the option on the table."

As Marty glances nervously at Black Lagoon Company, all four of them glancing at each other with blank looks on their faces, Lloyd adjusts his right hand closer to his pistol, his moustache twitching. A drop of sweat trailing down Marty's cheek, Marty pleads "You believe me right? Look, I came here to tell you this. I was gonna say everything before you started with jumper cables on the stugotz (cock). I mean, I paid all of you in full. Like I promised. And I didn't pay cheap money."

The silence, so profound that a mouse's footsteps would echo, breaks through the sound of Dutch's sandals digging into the carpet floor. Arcing his head back, Dutch says "I believe that you ain't going to screw with us through the duration of our employment, so that's good enough for me. Just as long as you remember, I don't believe in the whole 'dead equals no paycheck' thing. And until the 25 grand is in our deposit box, we aren't moving an inch. And you still haven't responded to why you lied about Trung."

Marty scratches the back of his head and scrambles for an answer. Stumbling onto one, he asks "Is it really that fucking important? Can we get to work now? I mean, I'm going to pay you the money, as always. I'm clearly good with that." Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "Sure, as long as you pay us before we move out. What's the job?" "That's the fucking problem…" Marty begins, scratching his right cheek "I don't know." "What?!" Revy suddenly blurts out, an incredulous look on her face. Grimacing, Marty says "Yeah, I don't know where to move from here. My military connect has gotten a lot quieter. When I asked him for details about that hit squad that went after you two in Vibol's house, rest in peace, he got more evasive then O.J. Simpson. I remember you, Revy, mentioned that there was at least six hitmen that were offed, along with Vibol and Trí. My military connect only gave me the details that were released to the press, which gave me ugatz (bullshit) on that hit squad. As for Trung, I keep trying to schedule a chance to speak with him but Tuyết keeps saying that the safe house is being watched from a nearby shack and that she needs time to assess the threat, as she claims. So basically I have no fucking idea where to go from here. That's why I came to see you, Rock, because I know, through the grapevine, that you have a habit of making something out of nothing. And anyone else here got any bright ideas, I'm all ears. I'm sure I don't have to pay you for that, right?"

"Interesting," Dutch mutters under his breath, crossing his arms. Rock, meanwhile, glares at Benny, completely stumped, scrambling for a thought. Snapping his fingers, Benny draws attention and says "I reckon we can't go any more forward without knowing what you are trying to achieve here. What is the end result with all these jobs?" As Dutch, Revy, and Rock nod in agreement, Marty solemnly mutters "True…", pauses, and then says "The first job was to clear out Thinh's number one competitor and pin the job on the secret police, who in turn would immediately pin it on Trung and his brother, as I mentioned a while before. The second job was to take Trung and get information out of him, as I also mentioned a while before, while at the same time putting more heat on Chù Thanh Hoàng."

Sprawling herself on the bed, her arms behind her head, Revy says "So it sounds like getting some details out of Trung is the obvious next step to take." Stretching her back, she continues "Ask your gooks to raid the shack. What's the problem?" "The problem is if the people in the shack got the secret cops on speed dial. Honestly, I feel like there's egg shells everywhere." "So send some other people that the secret gooks won't be expecting. C'mon we already clipped a few of them," Revy counters, annoyed, Turing to Lloyd, Marty asks "Eddie Ventilation has a car here, right?" Lloyd nods and says "Yeah." Turning to Lagoon Company, Marty says "Phan Thiết. We going to Phan Thiết…3 hour drive."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Dutch asks, slightly annoyed. Marty walks to within a foot away from Dutch, leans forward, and says "Your momma must have dropped you out the fucking window if you think I'm going to pay 25 grand just for you four to 'talk' with some pencil-neck gookosaurus rex. If Trung has something to say that can make the ball move forward, then you got yourself the 25 grand. If not, you can go home. Sounds good?" "We already have the choice to go home," Dutch calmly mutters, unfazed. Smirking, Marty says "Yeah? And leave 25 grand on the table? You mercs making fucking peanuts literally kill for pay days like this. How often do you get jobs like this? Eh? Tell me. I'd bet you'd change your tune if your boat sunk and you have to spend every fucking dime you own just to get back on the water. I don't care what part of world you live, you don't pass up these opportunities." Whispering under his breath, Marty slyly adds "And I bet your 'employees' wouldn't like missing out either…"

Sighing under his breath, Dutch thinks for a few seconds, and then says "Okay, but if I see you, or anyone associated with you, pull something, we are most likely gone." "Deal," Marty says, and then adds "We leave in half an hour. I got to make some calls and grab something to eat."

A shirtless, skinny, slightly tanned-skinned Western European looking man in his 50s, with long, unkempt black hair and a scruffy goatee, wearing grey sweat pants stained in urine and worn grey sandals, standing on a sidewalk in front of an alleyway with a green dumpster, yells out in a drunken, slurred, New York City accent "THEREEE…NO VICTIMS! ONLY…SURVUHVUH…VIVORS!" Spotting Fred Viapiano walking across the street, dressed in a white collared shirt that is patterned in small, black fleur-de-lis, black jeans, and white tennis shoes, the mobster looking at his stainless steel watch, the drunk yells at him "IF IT HUUURTS...MAKE IT HURT…" As Viapiano pauses and stares at the idiot, a Western European looking man Viapiano jumps in front of Viapiano, appearing ready to shield him. The man, in his early 50s, sporting wavy grayish black hair, dressed in a light blue dress shirt and dark brown slacks, gently pushes Viapiano behind him as the drunk points a green beer bottle at the two and yells "MORE!"

The bodyguard shakes his head and turns to Viapiano, speaking to him in flabbergasted Neapolitan "P'cche (Why)?" Viapiano pats the man on his right shoulder and says "P'cche no (Why not)? Scugnizzo (street urchin), ignore him Pasquale. We got a deadline." Pasquale shrugs his shoulders and lets Viapiano take point, as the two approach the front entrance of the Bougainville Trade Company. As Pasquale presses a buzzer in front of a steel door heading into an inconspicuous six floor office building, the building made of reddish brown bricks layered between glass windows that are covered in elegant, sharp, black window bars, the drunk yells out "GO AND GET FUCKED BY THE U.S. MARINE…WHORE!"

Entering the apartment, the two are immediately swarmed by an Eastern European looking man with short black hair and round cheeks, dressed in a grey suit, white undershirt, grey slacks, and a black tie, and a Central Asian looking man with short black hair, distinct Asiatic features, a large wide nose, and a skinny face, dressed in a grey suit, white undershirt, black slacks, and a black and green striped tie. The two Hotel Moscow henchmen push the two 'Ndrangheta gangsters to a wall and begin to pat them down. The room itself is empty aside from two blank, wooden doors and a metallic elevator opposite the entrance.

After the Central Asian gangster clears Viapiano, finding no weapons, the Eastern European gangster retrieves a tiny Glock 26 from Pasquale's ankle holster and pockets the pistol, saying in deep-voiced and somewhat Russian-accented English "You get this back when you leave." Pasquale gives a glance at the gangster as if he barely understands, as the Central Asian gangster says in slightly high pitched Kazakhstani-accented Russian "Poidiom (Let's go)."

The Central Asian man presses a button to summon the elevator as the Eastern European man keeps his eyes on Viapiano and Pasquale. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, the two 'Ndrangheta gangsters herd inside, the walls a slightly dirty grey. The Eastern European man coldly says "Face the wall," which Viapiano and Pasquale awkwardly do. Viapiano taps Pasquale's shoulder and says "Trust me." The Central Asian gangster quickly presses a floor button, floor 5, as the Eastern European man placates "Until the elevator stops, keep facing wall. Security measure, is all."

A few more nervous seconds, and the elevator rumbles to a halt. The Central Asian man chuckles and says in Kazakhstani-accented English "You can turn around now." Viapiano and Pasquale quickly turn around as the two Hotel Moscow thugs escort them into a plain hallway with beige walls and a wooden floor, the hallway peppered with wooden doors. The Central Asian man takes point and leads the two Italians past a few doors, as the Eastern European man casually watches their rear. Reaching a wooden door on the right, the Central Asian man knocks once on the door and yells "Eta ya! Ivan 'Razal'! (It's me, Ivan 'Razal')." As he pushes the door open, Ivan enters a board room with a wooden table long enough for four people on each of the elongated sides. On the opposite end from the door, Balalaika, dressed in her red business suit, sits on a black wheeled stool, her back facing a blank wall with a barred window. To the left of the window is a white erase board with a couple of colored markers and marker erasers on a platform. To Balalaika's right, Chang, dressed in a grey vest, white undershirt, black tie tucked inside the vest, a black leather belt, and dark grey slacks, and an unidentified slightly dark-skinned Chinese man in his late 40s, sporting black, mop-top shaped hair and a thick moustache, dressed in a light blue and white checkered, buttoned dress shirt, a black leather belt, and dark blue slacks, sit patiently with their arms crossed. Opposite Chang and to Balalaika's near left, a somewhat dark-skinned East African looking man in his early 40s, sporting a round, protruding forehead, a pointy cleft chin, thick curly black hair, a thin moustache, and a goatee, dressed in a dark blue and white pinstriped suit, a white dress shirt with light green checkered squares, a dark blue tie, black pants, a black belt with a titanium belt buckle, and amber-colored thin framed glasses with thick, egg shaped lenses, sits nervously with a few papers in his hands.

To the East African man's left, across from the unidentified Chinese man, is a bald, dark skinned West African looking man in his mid 30s, sporting curly mutton chops, a moustache, and a goatee, wearing a light-gold collared, buttoned silk leisure shirt, a brown leather belt, and black slacks. As the West African looking man catches a glance at Ivan, Balalaika smoothly says "Prinecitei eih sudha (Bring them here), Razumov." Ivan Razumov motions at Viapiano and Pasquale. As the two enter the board room, Razumov chuckles and says "V liftei, starik pachti zasral shtani ahahaha (In elevator, the old man almost shat his pants ahahaha)."

Viapiano stands himself to the right of the unidentified Chinese man, with Pasquale taking the seat to the right of Viapiano. Fred extends his hand at the West African man and says "Federico Viapiano." The West African man cracks a bemused smile and, shaking Viapiano's hand, says in a Nigerian accent "Akinwale Nweke." Viapiano then turns to the East African man and extends his hand. The East African man cheerfully smiles and firmly shakes Viapiano's hand, saying in a Tanzanian accent "Ahmed Massawe. It is a pleasure."

Smiling comfortably at Ahmed, realizing that Ahmed is completely out of his element, Viapiano quickly shakes Balalaika's and Chang's hands without very little eye contact. The unidentified Chinese man smirks and blurts out in a Cantonese accent "Apparently this shirt makes me invisible." Chang places his right hand on his associate's left shoulder and says, with a slight tinge of annoyance, "Chun Kit Ng, meet Viapiano. Viapiano, Ng."

Noticing that Ivan has yet to leave the room, Balalaika sighs and says "Ivan, mozhit bit pora nam uhodit (Ivan, time to leave, perhaps)?" Ivan takes his queue and says "Prostiteh (Forgive me)" before departing, closing the door behind him. Taking a quick survey of those around her, she says "Very well. I am to understand that you want to help revive my casino project. I am assuming that you all want a stake in it." Viapiano smirks and blurts out "Well of course, we ain't Ukrainians here. We like to grow our shit and eat it too." Balalaika breaks out into a minor chuckle as the rest stare in a mix of confusion and disinterest. Akinwale gently knocks once on the table with his right fist and says "Just to clarify, Mr. Massawe here and myself are concerned with supplying materials for construction. Mr. Fajuyi, my boss, has no interest in investing capital into your casino."

As Balalaika prepares to speak, Chun interrupts her and says "And as a gesture of goodwill to Mr. Fajuyi, us…Mr. Chang, myself, and Mr. Viapiano, will not hand you any cash unless you first agree with Mr. Nweke's and Mr. Massawe's proposal." Glaring coldly at Ng, and then at Chang, Balalaika calmly turns to Mr. Massawe and asks "What do you have for me?"

Ahmed warmly smiles and says "Of course Miss…Balalaika is it? Is that name Turkish? Georgian? Regardless, as the Chief Operating Officer of Zanzibar Tradex, I am prepared to offer you a generous price on prime Nigerian cement, gravel, sand, steel, and concrete bricks. I assure you that these are high quality building materials that, if properly utilized by a savvy crew, would facilitate the construction of a building capable of resisting the monsoon season. Which, I am sure is a great concern."

Balalaika stares at the sheet, her eyes following dotted lines crossing the middle of the paper, connecting individual items to a price and a rate. Placing the piece of paper down, Balalaika turns to Massawe, pauses for a few seconds to collect her thoughts, and says "Alright. Two questions, for now. First one…assuming Zanzibar Tradex is actually based in Zanzibar, why are you selling me Nigerian…sand?" Her voice trails into confusion and disgust as the word 'sand' escapes her lips. Ahmed nervously smiles and quickly says "Oh, we, as in my company, are an import/export business based on Zanzibar Island, in Tanzania. We primarily specialize in purchasing products from Tanzania, Mozambique, and Madagascar and matching those products with Southeast Asian consumers, as well as the reverse." Stumbling along his words after he realized that he spoke himself into a corner, Ahmed reluctantly divulges "Um…in this scenario, Adelekan Heavy Industries sought us out on their own accord and asked that my company would serve as a go-between."

Glaring blankly at Massawe as the latter begins to sweat, almost amused with him, Balalaika presses on "I think my second question has been answered. Now, the vast majority of these items could be purchased in Thailand at a quarter of these prices. Perhaps a sixth." Pulling on his shirt collar to let air in, Ahmed nervously chuckles and says "Well…I would imagine that Mr. Fajuyi and myself would…um…negotiate…" Ahmed nervously turns around to Akinwale and mutters "Perhaps? Maybe?"

Nweke coldly says "No. We will not negotiate." Sighing under his breath, Nweke mutters in Yoruba "Ode buruku (damn idiot)." Placing his palm on his face, Akinwale slides it down to his chin and says "Ahmed, please excuse yourself." Confused, Ahmed raises an eyebrow at Akinwale and asks "Are you sure?" Akinwale menacingly stares Ahmed down, to which Ahmed embarrassingly smiles and announces "Please excuse me, I must relieve myself."

As Ahmed exits the room and gets escorted by Ivan to the bathroom, Akinwale turns to Balalaika and, gesturing slightly with his hands, says "Okay, basically Adelekan Heavy Industries is going to sell that undersized sweat gland the building material, and the sweat gland is then going to sell it to you. If you wonder why I brought him here, it is because you will call him if you need more materials. He will then call Adelekan Heavy Industries out in Nigeria to send the material to Zanzibar Tradex. The materials will leave Zanzibar Island on cargo ship and arrive in Roanapur docks. You need even more? Then call again. Whole process takes several weeks for each shipment."

Balalaika frowns to herself, glances at the paper on the table, and asks "Is Mr. Fajuyi a major shareholder in Adelekan Heavy Industries? Or Zanzibar Tradex? What is his stake in either of the two companies? " Akinwale folds his arms on the table and leans forward, saying "I don't like those questions. I will not answer them. Now, are we in agreement?" "One final inquiry," Balalaika immediately responds, tapping her fingers on the piece of paper. After a quick pause, she says "The transportation between Nigeria and Tanzania alone is a logistical nightmare, not to mention the shipping between Tanzania and Thailand, which will overlap on piracy hotspots. Who is bears responsibility for any material loss in transit?"

Akinwale smirks and says "Fair question. Between Nigeria and Zanzibar, it is Massawe's problem. Between Zanzibar and Roanapur, it is your problem. The cost of transportation has been factored into those rates…rates are subject to fluctuation if transportation costs increase." "What?" Balalaika blurts out, annoyed, almost enraged. Nweke continues "As soon as the ship leaves Zanzibar, the materials are considered yours. So if they get damaged, it's between you and whoever Massawe hired to ship the stuff." "Excuse me," Balalaika blurts out, now greatly annoyed "I am paying for transportation but Mr. Massawe is selecting the shipping company? I don't follow this logic."

Akinwale chuckles and says "That's why you should get very friendly with Ahmed and his boss. I don't know much about how he and his boss run that company, and honestly, I don't care. If Ahmed's boss is willing to let you select the shipping company, that's his business. Remember, if you don't take my deal, you don't get Mr. Chang's and Mr. Viapiano's investment in your casino."

Balalaika glances once more at the piece of paper, zeroing in on the prices. Sighing, Balalaika partially resigns and says "I cannot believe I am about to buy imported sand. Very well, remove any actual bricks from this arrangement...I have my doubts that more than a quarter would arrive intact. Do this and you may leave with my agreement." "Fine," Nweke sternly declares, as he and Balalaika shake hands. Climbing from his seat, Nweke says "I am going to see Massawe back to the airport. At this rate, he might think we are mobsters, ahaha." As Freddy, Pasquale, Chun, and Chang all share a chuckle with Nweke, Nweke adds "Oh I think it would be best to keep Massawe as oblivious of our more interesting activities as possible. I am just specifying."

Chun smirks and says "By the way, Nweke. What is with that Nigerian mechanic with the shop? You know? The weird one?" Akinwale suppresses a laugh and says "Oh, you mean those two idiots? They're not even Nigerian. They are Cameroonians with false passports who are taking the new identity facade way too seriously. By the way, Ms. Balalaika…if you need a forged passport for a friend, seek out Emmanuel, not those Pakistanis in Bangkok. Trust me. And now, I take my leave."

As Akinwale exits the room, coming face to face with Massawe, and as Ivan escorts the two to the elevator, Viapiano turns to Balalaika and says "Alright, now for the real business at hand." Balalaika leans back on her chair, lifts a dirty ashtray with a few crushed cigarette butts off the floor, and places the ashtray on the table. She pulls a wrapped Corona Cuban cigar and a cigar cutter out of a pocket on her suit and says "I am listening."

"Spare change?" the shirtless homeless man begs, sitting on the ground, leaning on a dumpster, as Vadim Jodorovski, dressed in a blue and white horizontally stripped shirt and black cargo pants, rushes across the street toward the Bougainville Trade Company. As Mr. Massawe and Mr. Nweke exit the building, Vadim squeezes between them and yells "Eta ya (It's me)! Vadim Yakovlevich! Otrkoiteh lieft blyat (Open the elevator, fuck)!" Suddenly, Ivan Razumov grabs Vadim and says "Shto sluchilos (What happened)? Kapitan vediot peregavori (Captain is in talks)." Almost frantic, Vadim says "Ya nashol Vaynshteyn (I found Vaynshteyn). Y Aslanov, y Garayev (And Aslanov, and Garayev). Ya dolzhen skazat Sofiye (I have to tell Sofiya). As Vadim tries to push Ivan away in an attempt to reach the elevators, Ivan again holds Vadim and says "Izveni chuvak (Sorry dude). U menya prikazi yect (I have orders)." Fuming, Vadim swears "Ti zhayesh (You know), pashol ti na hui c vashimi prikazomi (sit on a dick with your orders)! Otpusti menya uzhe (Let me go already)!"

"Podazhdi (Wait). Po krai ni mirya chas (For at least an hour). Shto takoye vazhnoye (What is so important)?" Ivan replies, gently pushing Vadim back. Vadim shakes his head and yells "Suka vietnamski derzhit eih v pleni (Vietnamese bitch is holding them captive)! Geniral yebanuti ot vietnamskoi armiye (Fuckhead general from the Vietnamese army)!"


	10. What's Done In The Dark

"So this is Phan Thiết? Shit, I feel like we travelled to every smog filled city and cousin fucking town in Southern Vietnam," Revy blurts out from the back seat of a grayish-blue five-door Lada Nivu SUV. Dressed in her black tank top, corduroy shorts, combat boots, and a new set of black leather gloves, Revy yawns and closes her eyes, sticking her tongue between the gap where her tooth once was. At her feet are her two Cutlass holsters, the Cutlass pistols still in them. To her left, Dutch, dressed in his usual attire, his sunglasses hanging off his shirt collar, rubs his forehead and glances at the surrounding residential homes. To the left of Dutch, squeezed into the other backseat door, Benny, dressed in his purple FSU Seminoles shirt and blue jeans, awkwardly pushes Dutch back and says "A little personal space, boss." As Dutch readjusts, Rock, dressed in his salaryman attire sans the tie, lays sprawled on the trunk of the SUV, staring into the car's roof.

In the front-side passenger seat, Martin Zappala anxiously peers out his window. He is dressed in his yellow Longshoreman of the Month shirt and a corduroy vest, the vest unbuttoned, jeans that have been recently washed, and brown sneakers. At the wheel, Nicky Ippolito signals a turn, dressed in a black and red striped tracksuit top and grey sweatpants. He glances at the clock on the radio and notices that it is 3:39 P.M. Cruising through Trần Lê Road, Nicky blurts out "Getting there. Want music?" Her eyes closed, Revy groans and says "I'm tired of that ear-grating shit. Can we hurry the fuck up?"

"Where is the safe house?" Dutch asks, leaning forward, rubbing the former bullet wound on his leg. Marty stretches his back and says "Outside the city, by the water. An isolated military bunker back from the Vietnam War era. That's where we got Trung holed up. Basically been cleaned out…we added a few fans, some lamps, and a few mattresses." "Alright," Dutch says as residential homes zip by the Lada. He looks down as if he made a mistake. As Rock, still lying on his back, surveying his M9 in his right hand, Marty tries to say something, only to halt himself. Tapping his fingers against the window, he musters out "I…ehh…remember that boat that was stalking us when we dumped Gessa's corpse?"

His eyes lighting up, Benny blurts out "Yea I remember." Dutch, Revy, and Rock also listen into the conversation as Marty says "Around the time that you, Revy, and Rock over there, the day that hit squad went after you and Tuyết, my military connect told me that the four guys that stalked us were caught by his hired help…in a shack near the city where the recycling plant is at. They are being watched by the military connect's friends as we speak. Apparently…three Eastern Europeans and a…Lotion? Laotian? Something like that."

"Interesting…" Dutch mutters, surveying Marty's face for any signs of bullshit. As Rock's eyes widen in apprehension, Marty continues "They found Thai cash in their wallets. And…that's all that the military connect told me." Burying her face in her right hand, Revy quietly mutters "Oh great, big sis is going to roast our asses." "What did you say?" Marty asks, glaring at Revy in confusion. "Nothing. Mind your fucking business," Revy angrily and hurriedly replies. His left eye twitching, Marty hisses "Hey toothless bitch, you want to start something? Do ya? Well here's your fucking moment! Ey?! Eh, eh?!" As Marty and Revy nearly go to blows, Dutch separates the two and says "Cool everyone! Keep cool! Clearly this is something that needs to be addressed. Now Mr. Zappala, you think they were with Hotel Moscow?!"

Glaring silently at Dutch for a few seconds, almost sizing him up, Zappala says "I never said that. What makes you think that? Does 'Oh Captain My Captain' have a stake or some con or some kind of bullshit in this place?" Thinking for several seconds, Dutch diplomatically replies "Lagoon Company prides itself in protecting the secrets of its esteem clients." "Oh don't give me the small ads horseshit! What, you going to walk now?" Marty grills Dutch, visibly angry. Taking a moment to craft an appropriate response, Dutch says "We are not employed by Hotel Moscow and we do not take sides in Roanapur. We are strictly neutral. That said, I realize that there is a certain level of confidentiality that our clients expect from us. It applies to everyone, including you Mr. Zappala."

Sighing, Marty implores "Can you just tell me if this is something to worry about? Professional opinion." Satisfied with a question he could answer, Dutch says "My professional opinion? Yes, this freaks the shit out of me." Digging into his car seat, Marty groans "Great. Fucking great. Freddy VIP is meeting with Ms. Scarface right now over buying shit from her and some other stuff that's not relevant here. Alright, if Ventimiglia and Fedorchuk find any Ivans in the shack, it's going straight to the DEFCON 5. That's all I'm saying."

"You mean DEFCON 1," Dutch corrects. Raising an eyebrow, Marty says "No, you got it fucking wrong." Dutch immediately cuts Marty off and says "No, it is as I said. I still remember some stuff from the Marines." "Learn something new every day," Marty blurts out, amused.

As Nicky Ippolito prepares to exit the city, Marty yells "Nicky, pull to the shoulder. I got to give Eddie a call." Pulling a black disposable cell phone out, Marty dials a number and waits. After a short pause, Marty speaks "Eddie? It's me. Thank fuck the edge of this town has some cell phone reception. Anyway, change of plans. Don't greet them, just keep an eye on them. Keep distance and all. Watch for a sign from me at the other place, the main place. Got it? Good." Hanging up the phone, Marty says "I should have set that up from the beginning. Fucking reds making this complicated."

"Are you going to use them to raid the shack?" Dutch inquires, slightly worried. Marty grimaces and says "If it's the Secret Viet-Cunts, they will be only trying to build radio surveillance on us. The fact they haven't charged the bunker means they know nothing about us and only possibly have eyes on Tuyết and company, as a lead. If it's the Ivans, they would be trying to follow one of us to their buddies. That's not going to happen, obviously. So I feel we can wait and see." "And if it is Trung's brother?" Dutch inquires. Marty chuckles and says "He…is the last of our problems now."

"So we are just going to drive into the safe house?" Ippolito asks, scratching his nose. A drop of sweat rolling down his right cheek, Marty answers "Yea, just drive." Yawning, Marty adds "One last thing. Thinh called me this morning about someone that has information about that hit squad. During our last stop for gas, he called me and said that the witness or something is on the way to the bunker. Thinh sent the guy and a couple of his associates, as escorts, on the way from Ho Chi Minh City. One of my guys, Thụ, is with them."

Driving down a dirt road toward the shore, a massive forest behind him, Ippolito parks the car several meters in front of a large, metal building, shaped like a cylinder that has been sliced in half from top to bottom and then laid down on its flat side. The walls are colored a weathered green, slightly rusted. In the front of the building stands a pair of white metal doors with ventilation shafts on them. Exiting the car, Black Lagoon Company survey their surroundings, with Revy wearing her Cutlass shoulder holsters, Rock wearing his Uzi shoulder holster, Dutch touching the grip of his Smith & Wesson, and Benny adjusting his glasses. Marty and Ippolito follow suit, with Marty yawning and stealing a gaze at the shore of the South China Sea. He walks off the grass and onto the thin strip of sandy beach, letting his shoes dig into the sand. Rock approaches Marty and soaks in the sound of waves crashing and wind blowing, staring toward the horizon.

"The shack is to our left. I would guess that around three or four people could comfortably wait there," Rock observes, carefully stealing glances at the shack. Marty nods, grimaces slightly, and pulls out a pack of Craven A's. He then pulls out a small plastic lighter, places a cigarette in his mouth, and lights it. Taking a drag, Marty exhales and says "Funny how we got here from dumping fucking plastic. Well, good thing I have you degenerates working for me." "I'm assuming we're going to get paid for whatever it is you have in mind. Do you actually have a plan?" Rock inquires, pulling out a cigarette from his own pack of Craven A's. As Rock pulls out his own lighter, places the cigarette in his mouth, and lights his cigarette, Marty takes another drag and says "I got a couple of ideas…more like concepts. Depends on what Trungy-boy has to say."

Behind the two, Revy and Dutch converse between each other, talking about the NFL playoffs, both with a cigarette in their right hands. Leaning on the trunk of the Lada, Ippolito and Benny reminisce about their game of hand grenade baseball, speaking silently enough as to not catch Dutch's attention. Knocking ash off his cigarette, Rock asks "Is your military friend trustworthy?" Pausing for a second, Marty turns to face Rock and ghastly mutters under his breath, almost theatrically and almost in denial, "Eat fucking shit!" Taking a step back, Rock frowns and mediates "I'll back off. Can you at least tell me what he his? Rank and post?"

Digging the sole of his right shoe into the sand, knocking ash off his cigarette, Marty pauses in deep thought and then says "Hiếu Văn Phạm. That's his name. He is a Brigadier General and head of command of the province that Rạch Giá is in. That's all I'm going to say. Go tell Dutch if you want. I'm going to wait here for a bit more." Rock nods and says "Thanks," before departing, leaving Marty to brood over the South China Sea shore.

A ray of light peers through a cloud and reflect across the water, the ocean sways to the gentle January breeze. Flicking a cigarette bud into the ocean, Marty pulls his shoes out of the sand and turns toward the rusty bunker. As Rock conveys what he learned with Revy, Dutch, and Benny, a Vietnamese-accented female voice reverberates through the front doors of the bunker "Are you coming in or should I bring out a barbecue grill?!"

The doors to the bunker slowly creek open, allowing a ray of light to shine into the poorly lit bunker. Marty and Nicky step into the bunker, followed by Dutch and Benny. Stepping in, side by side with Revy, Rock surveys the interior of the bunker. A bulky grey dynamo generator hums on the right, powering an overhead ceiling light with four bulbs and a rotating fan, as well as a pair of scattered lamps on the opposite end of the bunker. At the opposite end of the bunker, adjacent to the left wall, a locked jail cell with a single mattress houses Trung Thanh Hoàng. Seated on the mattress with his hands cupped and dressed in a sweat soaked dark grey sweater and sky blue boxers, Trung sends a thousand mile stare toward the arriving consulate. To the right of the jail cell, Ngoc pushes her glasses closer to her head, dressed in a sleeveless sky blue corduroy vest, a black tank top under the vest, black and purple striped sweat pants, and light brown tennis shoes. She cradles the barrel of her Mossberg 500 in her left hand, the barrel pointed at the roof. Right above Ngoc is a flickering lamp nailed to the wall and connected to the dynamo generator through a slightly dirty power strip. To the right of Ngoc is an identical jail cell, devoid of human life.

As the six move four feet into the belly of the bunker, both bunker doors swing shut. Behind the door on the right, Tuyết, dressed in a light green shirt and jeans, and aiming her Madsen M50, yells "Ground! Ground! On the ground now!" Behind the door on the left, a badly scarred Korean man in his early 40s, dressed in a blue and red plaid, buttoned polo and dark green shorts, sporting short black hair and a square jaw, lunges at Revy with the buttstock of an AK-47. "The fuck?" Revy mutters, a confused look on her face as her right hand pensively approaches the Cutlass on her left shoulder holster, quickly drawing. Before Revy could aim a Cutlass, she feels the business end of a wooden buttstock across her face and falls to the cold, hard, wooden ground, stunned. Her Cutlass clangs on the floor, next to her right foot. As Rock rushes to Revy and the Korean man, the Korean man shovels the buttstock into Rock's chest, knocking the wind out of him.

As Rock crumbles on top of Revy, Dutch, Benny, Ippolito, and Marty all stare in stunned confusion as Ngoc sluggishly climbs off her chair and aims her Mossberg at the four. Marty turns his head toward Tuyết and sneers "So you took his money, eh? How much? How fucking much?!" "Im lặng (Shut up)!" Tuyết yells out, her face swollen in rage. Licking her lips, she yells "I don't know what caliber of idiot you think I am, but I am NOT going to smile and let you stab me in the back!" Raising an eyebrow, Marty says with a perplexed look "Wha…fuck you talking about? Seriously, tell what the fuck you talking about cause I'm feeling as confused as I am pissed off." After a quick pause, Tuyết ignores Marty's request and says "Ngoc, open the cell. You, Dutch, and all your crew. Go in." As Rock pulls Revy up by her shoulders, the Korean man says in Vietnamese-accented English "Reach for your guns and Buddha is my witness I'll shoot your eyes out."

"Min-soo, keep calm okay," Tuyết orders. Benny chuckles to himself and mutters "Practice what you preach ma'am." "Excuse me?!" Tuyết yells, firing a few bullets into the wooden floor. As Benny, Rock, Ippolito, and Marty all jump in shock, Tuyết continues "I thought I gave you a fucking order! Ippolito, hairy asshole, you two step to the side." Marty and Nicky step toward the wall, both glaring anxiously at a trigger happy Tuyết, as Ngoc places her shotgun on the ground and approaches Benny. She pulls Benny to the wall between the two jail cells and quickly frisks him for weapons, while Min-soo aims his AK-47 at Rock and a barely conscious Revy. Seeking to diffuse the situation, Rock says "Wait. Don't shoot. I will slowly remove her shoulder holsters. Here."

Dutch grimaces and says "Damnit Rock, what are you doing?!" Ngoc finishes her frisk of Benny, shoves him face first into the empty cell, and reaches for her shotgun. Quickly turning around with her shotgun at the ready, Ngoc watches as Min-soo's AK-47 begins to shake in his hands. His breathing heavy, Rock slowly unfastens Revy's left shoulder holster, and then her right shoulder holster. Smiling nervously, he pulls Revy away from the pistols, the latter muttering "Rock…fuck you…" Min-soo steps forward and awkwardly and carelessly kicks the Cutlasses away as if they were plastic bags caught under his black and white sneakers. Rock nervously laughs and pulls his left hand toward the strap on his holster. He slowly motions his left hand toward a buckle and says "I'm just going to unbuckle it and let it slide off me." Unbuckling the holster, Rock lifts the strap over his head and lets the holster and Uzi slide off his left arm. Rock then lifts Revy onto her feet and turns around, saying "I have a pistol under my shirt. That's all Revy and I have."

Ngoc places her shotgun on the ground and frisks Dutch, quickly confiscating his Smith & Wesson Model 629. As she motions Dutch into the cell, Rock follows suit, holding Revy by her shoulders, the latter barely able to stand. As Min-soo keeps aim, Ngoc lifts up Rock's shirt. Reaching for the M9, she whispers at a volume low enough that only Rock could listen, albeit barely "I'm on your side." Rock overhears this and slightly smiles, dragging Revy into the cell with Dutch and Benny, his gun frisked and in Ngoc's left hand. Ngoc places the Smith & Wesson on the floor, grabs the cell door, and slams it. Key already in the slot, Ngoc twists the key and pulls it out, while Tuyết turns her attention to Marty and Nicky.

As Tuyết keeps aim at Marty and Nicky, Ngoc quickly steps toward the two Canadian mobsters and pats them down, confiscating a pair of Beretta 92s. She places the pistols on the floor and kicks them away, and then returns to her shotgun.

Trung Thanh Hoàng gazes with detached indifference as Marty defiantly asks "So what, you going to take me outside and put me down like Old Yeller? Is that so?" Min-soo smirks and says "Considering how you and your military friend put my face into a vat of boiling grease, I'd say that is a tempting idea." Marty reverts from outward defiance to mind-numbing confusion and uncomfortably asks "What? Hiếu? What the fuck you're talking about?" Tuyết aims her Madsen at Marty as Ippolito nervously stays silent. She yells "Thongvan and his muscle attacked us! Thongvan said that you sent your regards! Thongvan killed Vibol and his friends killed Trí! And last time I checked, Thongvan works for you and Hiếu, and wouldn't piss without your approval! So I'm fairly confident you know what I am talking about, you backstabbing fuck! Min-soo, handcuff Zappala and Ippolito to the desk. We'll figure out what to do with them later."

Min-soo drops his AK-47 and grabs a pair of handcuffs off a heavy wooden desk pressed against the wall to the left of the entrance. He grabs Marty's left hand and roughly cuffs him to the leg of the desk facing closest to Black Lagoon Company. He then grabs Nicky's left hand and cuffs him to the leg of the desk facing closest to the entrance.

As Min-soo picks up his AK-47 and feints striking Zappala in the face with the buttstock, to Zappala's boiling fury, Tuyết interrupts and says "Thụ and a couple of Thinh's men are escorting a person of interest in here. That person of interest will verify exactly how you, Mr. Zappala, and your military friend, how the two of you tried to feed us to the leopards just to make things look good. And you hear that, Black Lagoon Company?! They were going to feed you all to the leopards as well! All to make this framing of Trung and his brother look believable! So what you say about that, Marty-boy?"

Teetering between seething rage and dumbstruck confusion, Marty yells "Thinh called me in person and told me that that person of interest is showing up! And I didn't fucking call a hit on you! Why the fuck would I do that?! WHAT POSSIBLIY COULD I GAIN WITH YOU DEAD?! HUH?! Tell me! I was going to promote you to Gessa's place you stupid bitch!" He clears his sore throat and fidgets on the floor, futily pulling at his handcuffs. "Then why the hell did Thongvan and several of your hired guns turn the safe house into police-line-don't-cross?! Please, because I am confused!" Tuyết yells at Zappala, spitting as she hollers. "I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! Thongvan does not answer to me! He's Hiếu's guy! I've been asking Hiếu for details about the shooting and he ain't given me shit! So I don't fucking know what is going on let me go fuck you fuck fuck CUNT FUCKER! CUNT FUCKER LET ME GO! NOW! FUCKING NOW!" Marty screams, bursting into hysterics and violent shakes.

Before Marty could continue his tantrum, Tuyết takes a step back, aims her Madsen, and yells "So you are saying, that a military general, who has access to hundreds of professionally trained soldiers, is going to hire…A CRYSTAL-METH-SMOKING COMPULSIVE GAMBLER…as a hitman? Oh, and Thavisouk? A man so idiotic…that he thought it would be a good idea to rob a liquor store two blocks from his house, with his dog in the getaway car! Yeah, I know they work for the general. I know they do odd jobs for him on the side, work that he wouldn't want to be associated with. But I highly…HIGHLY doubt…that someone who reached where he is now, through political maneuvering-NOW WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP MARTY-now where was I saying…through all the ass he kissed and back he stabbed, would be so CARELESS to hire the particular bunch of imbeciles that shot the house up! No, this smells like your work, and when Thinh's men arrive with confirmation, I will grind you into paste and feed you to the sharks!"

"FUCK YOU!" Marty screams, throttling at his handcuffs. Mustering the nerve to speak, Ippolito nervously and hurriedly blurts out "Tuyết listen to me. Marty and I have been as confused as you were about what happened to Vibol and Trí. Look, we didn't do this…we have money at stake and reliable people aren't easy to come by. So...please listen…we have no reason to try to kill you. Now those guys that the general has, I mean he sent them to hunt down four mercs that were probably going to kill us and Black Lagoon Company over there, so I don't see how contract killing is that big of a leap forward. He wants to hire bums off the street, that is his business. And Min-soo, why the hell you think we tossed your sorry face into boiling grease? I mean for fuck sake, one of our guys almost bit the dust out here."

Min-soo and Tuyết silently pause and think to themselves as Ngoc subtly nods in approval. After Min-soo and Tuyết nod at each over some unspoken agreement, Tuyết says "Considering that you two tried to frame a random print boss for a gangland massacre, and spent all this time keeping those mercenaries over there as clueless as possible, I'm finding it pretty likely that we are getting the same treatment, and that you only need a makeshift crew for a few more months until your recycling scam dries up and you run back to Canada." Fuming, Marty says "Oh yeah?! You wanna pin Min-soo getting his face filleted on me as well?! Got anything else?! Oh I don't know…the issue with the Spratlys? Freemasonry?! Think I'm Illuminati?! Screw you!"

"Min-soo, we are heading outside to wait for Thinh's men. Ngoc, keep watch. I'm trusting you with this," Tuyết commands, slightly unsure of herself. As Min-soo heads for the exit, feinting to crush Marty's face with the buttstock of his rifle, Ngoc nods and says "Tôi nghe bạn (I hear you)." Tuyết and Min-soo exit the bunker, stealing glances at a confused and agitated Black Lagoon Company and a zombie-like Trung Thanh Hoàng, the latter sitting on his mattress.

After waiting a minute, Ngoc runs up to Marty and speaks faster then she could think "Listen boss huge mistake we are both being played as idiots. Hiếu sent a hit squad on Vibol's house, probably for the same reason that you told us to keep those carpets for-for-for the case th-the-yeah. Thongvan was there, plus a bunch other guys. Well Tuyết thinks that you sent the hit squad because we are expendable or something."

Taking a deep breath, Marty slowly and angrily inquires "Why…the fuck…would she think that? 10 seconds or I'll BITE YOUR FACE OFF!" Thinking on her feet, Ngoc lies "Be-be-be-because Min-soo got into her ear. Ever since Tuyết spoke to us about what Thongvan said, Min-soo went ballistic. He immediately started screaming that you and the general were the ones responsible for his dip in boiling grease." "Why the FUCK would Min-soo even REMOTELY think that?" Marty yells out, yanking at his cuffs, while Trung and Black Lagoon Company stare in silence.

Ngoc nervously smiles and says "L-look, wait. Tuyết told me a few weeks ago that Min-soo told her that he is going to run as soon as you change his pay to either less or on a monthly basis. He is also been paranoid, doesn't even let me ride in the back of his car. He-he-he once thought that Jake Branca was Interpol." Bursting into hysterical laughter, and shortly joined in laughter by Ippolito and a nervous Ngoc, Marty exclaims "INTERPOL?! THAT IS RICH! HOLY SHIT THAT IS FUNNY! The only reason…I…woah I need to catch my breath…oh wow. Interpol. I hired him to work security. That guy once thought Batman was a documentary with everyone's names changed. If he is what international cops are throwing at us, I'd say we are living well."

Nervously smiling, Ippolito asks "Now are you going to uncuff us?" Ngoc looks around, glancing at Trung and Black Lagoon Company, and then returns to Zappala and Ippolito, saying "Tuyết is not going to die, right?" Marty chuckles and says "Well sure as shit as I checked, we all die. Some of old age. Some of dysentery. And some from having their throat CRUSHED UNDER MY BOOT! But yea…sure…Tuyết is, for the time being, fine. On her last chance, but fine. I'm a reasonable guy. Despite what she thinks, I like you all. You've been usually…painless to work with. Well, some more than others, like let's look at Min-soo here. He…ain't going to be fine. Oh no-no-no, he is light years from fine. Now, just hand both of us the keys and pretend…for a few minutes…that this conversation never happened. Oh, and my pistol. Kick it to me. And one for Nicky."

Ngoc obliges, tossing both keys at their feet, the latter two pocketing the keys. Ngoc then carefully aligns the pistol and kicks it a foot in front of Zappala. As Ngoc nervously watches, Zappala hides the pistol under the table. Ngoc smiles and kicks Ippolito's pistol at Zappala as Zappala placates "See, I'm with you. I'm not going to shoot you. I could right now, but I didn't. Loyalty, Ngoc, you understand it well." She then turns to Black Lagoon Company and yells "Marty, what do we do about the mercs?" As Dutch, Rock, Benny, and a now fully conscious Revy glare in apprehension, Marty stretches his neck and says "Dutch, you want to walk, you can walk, least after this bullshit with my supposed trusted FRIENDS…gets resolved. But I now have a job planned in my little coked-up noggin. And it's going to involve a certain Vietnamese general on a coroner's meat slab."

Dutch sighs and says "I figured, Marty, I figured it would make no sense for you to get chained to a table by your own muscle just for charades at our expense. The money is nice. I'll think about it. Not like we have anywhere else to go in the meanwhile." A hand grabbing the back of his shirt, Rock feels a tug as Revy snarls and whispers into his ear "Disarm me again and I'll circumcise you. And I know you got a lot of foreskin to trim, so don't push." Rock nervously laughs and whispers back "Love you too." Revy painfully squeezes Rock's neck, as Benny overhears the conversation. Quickly finding himself under Revy's wrathful gaze, Benny turns to Dutch and shifts the attention to himself for his own good "What about Trung and the whole issue with Gessa getting shot?"

"Yes?" A weary voice echoed. Grabbing onto the bars of his cell, and leaning his face through the gaps, Trung says "You got me. A stupid supply clerk that was forced by arrest of…I mean threat of arrest, to plant audio and video surveillance on your…precious metal extraction workshop." "Whose threat of arrest?" Ippolito blurts out as Marty and Ngoc fixate their eyes on the mentally-tortured, sleep-deprived captive. A look of anxiety on his face, Marty asks "Do the secret cops know about this?" Trung laughs as if he hasn't laughed for two days. After quickly regaining composure, he says "No, this is my kind and ever generous brother Chù that we are, um, conversing about. He forced me to infiltrate the workshop or else he would report me for the theft."

"What theft?" Ngoc asks. "The theft of the military hardware that was then used for the raid on Van Thirith's base of operations. My brother forced me to steal the hardware, through blackmail, and to commit the theft without implicating him. He then sold it to this black market smuggler for money to bribe the police and military in Rạch Giá to apply pressure on a certain Canadian in this bunker. Not realizing that they were already allied with Mr. Zappala."

Marty rubs his neck and says "Yea, that black market smuggler was one of Thinh Nguyễn goons, with an alias. Thinh told me that his guy got the stuff off some Chinese guy." Trung nods and says "A distant family friend who has connections to the black market." Marty thinks for a second, and then slowly and methodically says "Okay…let me get this cleared up. Thinh's guy gets it to Thinh. Thinh then got it to Cambodia, where this former marine, that the big black guy somehow is quasi-friends with, the ex-marine took the stuff basically across Cambodia with Thinh's connections. We picked it up. You do realize the irony here? It…is…BEAUTIFUL!"

Trung sighs and says "Yes, being confined in an eight by ten jail cell is quite the aesthetic wonder. Well, it gave me plenty of time to brood over this. I am guessing that the assault on the Cambodian mobster was to be carried out sooner had I not encountered that man at your workshop…factory…however you call it." "Pretty much," Marty admits, turning to Black Lagoon Company "yeah, if you wondered why we went after Van Thirith instead of this pencil-neck fuck, that was the reason why. The Van Thirith raid was weeks in the making and something I couldn't delay. Kidnapping this guy's sorry ass was a more on-the-spot decision."

Yawning, Dutch rubs his forehead and speaks "Alright, I'm starting to develop an understanding over what happened here. Trung's brother, Chù, wanted to extort Mr. Zappala over his recycling scam. Mr. Zappala's partner, Hiếu Văn Phạm, had aspirations of his own." Rock interrupts Dutch and says "And since Mr. Phạm has influence over the military and the police in his district, he was able to simulate what seemed to be Chù bribing police to disturb the recycling scam. After all, Chù's newspaper was posting suspicious articles, as I remember Mr. Zappala saying." "Hey my military partner told me that someone was outbidding him on bribes, and I believed him. I shoulda' gotten a bit skeptical when he started asking for more of an…equity share," Marty chirps in.

"So…" Revy suddenly blurts out "the good general takes one of Gianni Canuck's Viet-cunt meatheads and tosses his face into boiling grease, without making it look like he was involved, and the dumb fuck, who already doesn't have much love for everyone's favorite Canadian, starts having conspiracy theories." Ngoc steps in front of Revy, a foot away from the cell bars, and says "First, Min-soo is a Vietnamese-born Korean. Second, you can suck my asshole." "Oh right here sister, come over here! I'll knock you out again! How's the lip? I hear Jakey likes his blowjobs bloody," Revy angrily taunts Ngoc and flips her off. Rock steps in before Ngoc could contemplate giving the walls a new coat of paint "Revy she's on our side! Ngoc, Revy's sorry, she's just pissed over being stuffed in a cell. We all are on edge." "FUCK YOU ROCK! Don't speak for me, alright?! You ain't got the right!" Revy yells out, her hands shaking and her eyes pulsating in rage, much to Ngoc's amusement.

"ENOUGH!" Dutch yells out, calming the two down. Collecting his thoughts, Dutch pretends the last 30 seconds did not happen and says "So, Min-soo becomes a problem, but that comes later. Mr. Zappala, Mr. Nguyễn, and Mr. Phạm struck a plan to eliminate Mr. Thirith and frame Mr. Chù Thanh Hoàng at the same time. They eliminate two threats at once, or least attempt to. However, Mr. Chù Thanh Hoàng had ideas of his own, and pressured his brother to collect intel on the recycling plant, probably for blackmail. Or perhaps to put the recycling scam to sleep."

"No, that is not true," Trung blurts out, slightly agitated. Licking his dried lips, Trung says "My brother, last I spoke with him, he still plans to wet his beak as you Americans say. He has no desire to sink the recycling scam when the chance for a multi-million dollar bribe is there." "So you don't think that he went to the cops, secret or otherwise, after we snatched you, right?" Marty inquires. Trung pauses for a few seconds, cracks half a smile, and shakes his head as if he is making an educated guess "The only thing that would compel him to go to the police is if an actual investigation is launched against him. Not a fake investigation for television purposes, but a real one. He has a few friends in the Tổng Cục Tình Báo, hence how his under-qualified and less loved brother was given the attractive government position of supply clerk. He will throw his friends into traffic if it is revealed that he compelled me to steal from the federal government, probably to reduce his sentence and perhaps receive a quiet pass to flee the country. Going to the police now will simply speed up the inevitability that my former employers find out that my brother is the mastermind behind the military hardware used in a now internationally infamous 'military' raid on Van Thirith and his organization. So in the meanwhile, he will remain quiet and he will keep as few people involved as possible, so he could collect as much of a lion's share of Mr. Zappala's tribute with as little an expense in keeping people quiet. So no, Mr. Zappala, my former employers do not see you as a target yet, and honestly, I don't think they even know you exist."

As Rock hears Trung's admission, he catches onto a few common words. In deep thought, Rock mutters "Under-qualified…less loved brother…former employers." His thought process is interrupted by Ippolito, who asks the million dollar question "So if your former guys aren't looking at us as a target, then who the fuck is staking us out at the next door shack?"

As everyone turns their attention to Trung, Trung says "I'm not sure I follow." Marty, realizing that Trung has no idea who the shack people are, points at Trung and says "The uh…the guys you sent at us after you flattened Nat Gas. Who were they?" Trung immediately and slowly answers "One of them was local. The other three were from the Russian Mafia in Roanapur, Thailand." "Oh fuck! You got to be fucking shitting me!" Marty exclaims as Ippolito, Dutch, and Rock shake their heads in disappointment and apprehension. Grimacing, Benny astutely says "Balalaika is going to go ballistic." "Considering Freddy VIP is in talks with her, as we speak, oh fucking yeah," Marty exclaims, his face almost going pale. Trung smiles widely and says "Let me free and I'll call them to go home. It seems we have a deal to make." His hopes are quickly dashed as Marty yells "Nice try jackoff! That piece of fuck General Phạm already has them under lock and key after that Filipino captain chased them to shore." Trung frowns and says "That is very troubling for your beloved military friend. One of the Russians is a former special forces paratrooper. Not a man you can easily put in a prison cell."

Revy waves her arms up in defeat and yells "One of Balalaika's personal guard?! That's great! She's going to drop the nuke over here!" "Wait, unless my backstabbing partner told them, and I doubt he even knows where to look, I'm pretty sure those Russians don't know I'm involved. Phạm's guys are looking after the Ivans. Phạm probably thinks there is a chance that me and Tuyết are just talking this out amicably and that Min-soo disappeared to China or someplace. I think that after this is all resolved, I could call Phạm and act like nothing happened. Might get the Ivans released."

"Then why did you stare at me when the topic of the occupants of the nearby shack came into question?" Trung inquires, slightly annoyed. Marty smirks and says "Why? Because Balalaika is the type of person that has a knack for finding these things out anyway. Now, did you tell Ivans that I was the target?" Trung smiles, seeing another potential lifeline. He coyly says "I may have." Marty laughs and angrily says "Oh yea? If my boss Fred is living well enough to answer my call, after I get this bullshit resolved, then I'm thinking not Trungy-boy. I'm thinking not." Waving her left arm up for attention, Ngoc asks "Then if it is not the Russian Mafia, and it is not the Tổng Cục Tình Báo, who is in the shack?"

Trees sway in the wind, the sunlight peering through the clouds. Standing on a trail, Min-soo and Tuyết, AK-47 and Madsen M50 in their right hands, both enjoy a cigarette break, their cigarettes in their left hands. Taking a drag on his cigarette, Min-soo asks "Kế hoạch của bạn là gì sau này (What are your plans after this)?" Tuyết knocks ash off her cigarette and half-heartedly says "Biến mất vào nước Úc, có lẽ (Disappear into Australia, perhaps). Tôi sẽ tìm thấy một số công việc cuối cùng (I will find work eventually)." Min-soo raises an eyebrow and asks "Martin không có bạn bè ở Đông Úc (Martin does not have friends in Eastern Australia)? Tôi nghe nói khác nhau (I heard otherwise)." The head of security takes a long drag of her cigarette and dryly replies "Sau đó, tôi sẽ ở lại ở phía tây (Then I will stay in the west)."

Placing his rifle between his legs, Min-soo blurts out "Tôi đang suy nghĩ về các nhà máy tái chế (I'm thinking about the recycling plant)." Tuyết turns her head in attention, as a seagull screeches in the distance. She says "Vâng (Yes)?" Min-soo knocks ash off and says "Một số ẩn tiền (Some hidden cash). Có thể là một két an toàn (Possibly a safe deposit box). Chúng ta có thể lấy nó trước khi chạy trốn (We can grab it before fleeing)." Tuyết solemnly turns away from Min-soo and says, with a hint of melancholy "Tôi sẽ suy nghĩ về nó (I'll think about it)."

Flicking his cigarette onto the forest ground, Min-soo says "UEFA Champions League. Mà cũa các đội sẽ đạt được vòng bán kết (Which of the teams reach the semis)? Tôi nghĩ rằng nó sẽ là (I think it will be): Juventus, Manchester United, Bayer Leverkusen, Dortmund." Tuyết sighs and says "Tôi không xem (I don't watch). Tôi không quan tâm (I don't care)."

A figure appears to move in the distance, shifting between the trees. Soon afterwards, another figure shifts between shadows. As Tuyết flicks her cigarette and as the two hired henchmen ready their weapons, a somewhat chubby, light-skinned Vietnamese man in his early 30s, dressed in a black and red vertically stripped tracksuit top and tracksuit bottom, sporting short black hair, puffy cheeks, and a tripped moustache and goatee, aims a Makarov pistol at a skinny, somewhat dark-skinned Tamil woman in her 30s. The Tamil woman's undone black hair gently glide in the faint breeze, as sunlight bounces off her blue and white polka-dot patterned buttoned shirt, while the cuffs of her black slacks sway in the breeze. Her hands are bound behind her back with thin rope, and her eyes appear bloodshot and her teeth appear to shiver.

"Thụ," Min-soo blurts out "bao nhiêu câu hỏi đã hỏi (how many questions were asked)?" Thụ shoves Ulagammal forward and says "Thậm chí không một (Not even one). Người đàn ông với cặp kính nói rằng cô đã đi đến một quán bar không quá thân thiện (The man with the glasses said she went to a not too friendly bar). Cô bắt đầu đặt câu hỏi thú vị (She started asking interesting questions). Dẫn đến những câu chuyện thú vị hơn (Leading into more interesting stories). Tay sai Thịnh bế cô lên (Thinh's henchmen picked her up). Họ hứa với cô một cách ra khỏi đây (They promised her a way out of here). Phần còn lại là hiển nhiên (The rest is obvious)."

"What is your name?" Min-soo asks Ulagammal, scanning her. Looking to the ground, Ulagammal wearily says in Thai-accented English "Ho Chi Minh." Min-soo sarcastically laughs and says "Ohh that's very funny. Now tell me something that isn't bullshit before I shoot you." Ulagammal thinks for a second, and then smirks. She raises her bloodshot eyes, alternating between Min-soo and Tuyết, and says "Okay. You are all going to be slaves to the Chinese, like you were slaves to the French."

"The…FUCK YOU SAID?!" Min-soo exclaims as Tuyết and Thụ start to boil in rage. Min-soo grabs the barrel of his AK-47 and drives it straight into Ulagammal's stomach, sending her to her knees. As Thụ rests the barrel of his Makarov on the back of Ulagammal's head, Tuyết leans to Ulagammal's level and says "I am going to pretend you did not say that. It will make me drowning you in the ocean less tempting. Now, I am in control, and I am going to make you a promise. Answer all our questions, without agitating us, and I will not kill. I will put you on a torpedo boat, and I will let you sail away with your life. Are we clear?"

As Thụ lifts Ulagammal up with her hair, Ulagammal swears in Thai at the Vietnamese gangster behind her "Yet mae (Motherfucker)! If I need extensions I'm using your entrails!" Tuyết sighs and bluffs "Alright, shoot her in the face." "Wait, alright!" Ulagammal yells as the cold barrel of a pistol presses deeper into her head. Grimacing, Ulagammal says "Alright, I'll behave." Tuyết nods and says "Good, let's take a walk to the bunker."

The three Vietnamese henchmen and their captive leave the forest and begin their trek onto the beach, spotting Tuyết's and Min-soo's trail of footprints from before. Tuyết and Thụ walk behind Ulagammal as Min-soo takes point, all three henchmen clenching their guns. Min-soo glares at the distant bunker, its doors barely distinguishable. He says "Mr. Zappala says you have information." Ulagammal says "Sure leatherface, I have it on good authority that you suck dick for money." Min-soo immediately turns around and swings the buttstock of his AK at Ulagammal. Ulagammal quickly ducks as Min-soo freezes his swing inches from Tuyết's face. Tuyết says "You, Indian. Behave. Min-soo, calm yourself."

Ulagammal suddenly grinds her teeth and mutters "Okay, it is getting a little annoying. For…the last fucking time…I am Thai. Third generation from Phuket. I don't speak Hindi…or Tamil…or Paki. So…do not fucking call me Indian." Refusing to let Ulagammal take control, Tuyết says "I will repeat what Min-soo said. Mr. Zappala claimed you have information. Apparently his mobster friend from Saigon told him such. So…" As the bunker grows closer, Ulagammal says "Okay…do you know who I am?"

Min-soo says "I asked for your name ten minutes ago, so clearly we don't." Ulagammal sighs and says "Okay, call me Ula. I was brought here by my partner Weerawat, you know who he is?" Tuyết shakes her head and says "No. Why should I?" Ulagammal says "He worked with a man named Thongvan on an assignment to hunt down a bunch of hired goons, a four piece that tried to kill whom I'm assuming is your boss, out in open sea. Working for some military general that Weerawat somehow got in touch with. Now I tell you, Weerawat had a magic for finding shit out of nowhere, people, shit. If he were, he'd be on this place like a metal fucking detector."

Suddenly, Tuyết notices the pattern on her shirt and yells "Wait, you were one of the assassins in Vibol's safe house! From behind the driveway!" Ulagammal smiles and says "Guilty as charged! Do I win a prize? I hope it's in olive. I like olive." "Why did you attack us?" Min-soo inquires, glancing at Ulagammal over his shoulder. Ulagammal pretends to appear in deep thought, and then says "Hmm…I wonder. Perhaps as a result of the raging debate between moral relativism and universalism? Or, or-or maybe, just maybe, man's inhumanity to man? Or possibly the fact that Weerawat and I were going to get a couple grand each for you in a morgue. I would…guess it is probably latter, but I could be wrong!" Ignoring her sarcasm, Tuyết asks "Why didn't you pursue us?"

Ulagammal laughs and says "We did, just Thongvan took the wrong exited and we ended up in Phan Rang." Min-soo and Tuyết laugh as Thụ asks "Là những gì buồn cười (What is so funny)?" Still laughing, Min-soo says "Những kẻ giết người đã cố gắng để theo Tuyết vào Cam Ranh (The assassins tried to follow Tuyết into Cam Ranh). Tuy nhiên, họ lại đường cao tốc trên lối ra sai (However, they took the wrong exit)." As Thụ nods and smirks to himself, Tuyết asks "What happened in Phan Rang?" Ulagammal looks up and says "Thongvan and I took a leisurely stroll down the beach. We shared wine and cheese and debated on the merits of the 3-5-2 formation." "Oh so you are a clever motherfucker, aren't you?" Min-soo blurts out. Ulagammal cheekily smiles and quickly retorts, swaying her hips as she speaks "Well keep your mother out of the red light district and I won't fuck her."

"Tôi đã có đủ của con chó cái này (I had enough of this bitch)!" Min-soo yells, kicking Ulagammal in her crotch. As Ulagammal falls to her knees, Min-soo yells "Show some fucking respect!" Ulagammal winces and says "B-bite me! C'mon, have a chew! Us Dravidians are rich in anti-oxidants ahaha!" "You are sick. You know that? Well?" Tuyết bellows, almost disturbed by Ulagammal. Ulagammal laughs and says "Well, it's all part of the charm, sweetie. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, Thongvan."

Tuyết gestures her Madsen M50 at Ulagammal and says "I've been waiting…'Ula'." Ulagammal gets back to her feet, sand sliding off her pants. She winces and says "Thongvan took Weerawat and I to this local doctor to do work on Weerawat's missing cheek. Thongvan and I shared a beer, by the way I found your local Viet beer to be quite lacking. I must ask, you use adjuncts? Because once sip and Houston we have horse piss! Don't you have microbrews? I honestly should file a complaint to the national food inspector." "What the hell did Thongvan say?! Why are you so difficult?! Why did Martin Zappala send you to kill us?!" Tuyết yells in exasperation. Ulagammal laughs and answers the 2nd question "Oh no reason, aside from coming down an unusually stressful meth high while being bound and forced to entertain you confused cunts."

"Confused, what you mean confused?" Min-soo inquires, as Tuyết raises an eyebrow and steals a glance at the bunker. Ulagammal laughs into Min-soo face and says "Oh yes princess, you are confused. It's a quaint state of mind, isn't it?" Tuyết yells "Do you have Aspergers?! I have wasted ten minutes trying to get a simple answer out of you! What did Thongvan say?! Now, before I actually shoot you!" Ulagammal snickers and says "Alright, alright. Thongvan said off handedly that the military general is playing Mr. Zappala for an idiot. The military general only wants bodies on the street for the cops to find. He is working with his friends in the military and the police departments of Southern Vietnam on his scheme of manufacturing a major crime, and then solving it. By doing that, the army and the police get showered with accolades. Then comes the promotions. And then the funding. This is a little funding war between the army and the secret police, with a bunch of local cops taking the army's side. Some troublesome press boss gets burnt along the way, well why not? And as for you and the Canadian guy, you all are being played like marionettes. Oops."

"Wh-what?" Tuyết mutters in shock. She shakes her head and says "N-no, no no. You are lying. You are fucking lying!" "Tough love, sugar. It gets even better," Ulagammal torments, pleased with herself. After a short pause, she presses on "I'm guessing that you think the Italian-Canadian is the one who called that little song and dance in that small town. According to Thongvan, the Italian-Canadian is a headless chicken. He even refused to have you all killed after that little rumble in the docks, despite Mr…uh… Phạm's pestering about the sanctity of bodily fluids. And it sounded like he pestered quite alright. In his pants. You know, I love it when people betray the one person that ever showed any loyalty to them. It's very Darwinian."

"Bullshit! Explain these scars on my face!" Min-soo yells in rage, his hands jittering. Ulagammal laughs and says "I think you are clever enough to fill in the blanks." "Stop lying!" Tuyết yells as Thụ aims his Makarov at Ulagammal. Very nervous and confused, Thụ asks "Có một người có thể dịch cho tôi (Is there someone who can translate for me)?" "Đừng lo lắng (Do not worry)," Tuyết placates as she and Min-soo realize that they made a colossal mistake. "Should I say it, or are you going to shoot me anyway?" Ulagammal cheekily asks, cracking a wiry smile. Min-soo clutches onto and fidgets with his Kalashnikov, yelling "ĐỤ (FUCK)! ĐỤ, ĐỤ, ĐỤ! Cái quái đụ bạn đã làm cho tôi làm (What the fuck you made me do)?! Tôi đang nói chuyện với bạn, Tuyết (I'm talking to you, Tuyết)!" Thụ fires a bullet into the air and yells "Những gì đang xảy ra (What is happening)?!"

"Alright, it's starting. Time to earn our wages," says Eddie Ventimiglia, dressed in a red and white lotus-patterned, silk Hawaiian shirt, brown cargo shorts, white socks, grey sneakers, and frameless sunglasses, sitting on the hood of a white Volkswagen Passat B3 sedan. Zipping up the fly on his grayish blue jeans, facing the forest, and dressed in a white T-shirt that says, in black lettering, 'I (Heart) Vancouver', the 'heart' being an actual red heart, a brown unzipped vest, white socks, and light brown boots, an Eastern European man, with short blonde hair and a round face, replies with a Western Canadian accent "You sure it's them, Ed?" Ventimiglia climbs off his Passat and says "Hey Logan, I'd rather check and be wrong then miss the signal and get my ass fried. C'mon Fedorchuk, money's a making."

Logan Fedorchuk walks to the trunk of the Passat and lifts his right jean cuff, revealing an ankle holster with a pistol strapped on. He removes the pistol, a Glock 17C, removes the magazine, inspects it, and slams it back in. He pulls back on the slide and finds a bullet already in the chamber. As Fedorchuk returns his Glock to his ankle holster, Eddie asks "You know these guns nowadays load the bullet automatically, right?" As Eddie unlocks the trunk and lifts it up, revealing a Mossberg 590 riot shotgun with an attached shoulder strap, Logan dry replies "I'm paranoid that I would have to pull the trigger twice if it didn't work. That one second difference could land me in wheelchair."

Eddie gently hands the shotgun over to Logan. He then turns to the driver's seat and lifts up the floor mat, revealing a small hatch to a hollowed out space barely 6 inches deep. He lifts up the hatch and grabs an MP5K. He switches off the safety and says "Alright, let's rock and roll."

Inside the bunker, Ngoc hands Dutch his revolver and says "Remember, don't shoot unless they shoot specifically at you." Grabbing his revolver, Dutch laughs and sarcastically says "Yeah, I'm just going to stand here and play dodge ball." Outside the cell, the aged ex-marine ex-Black Panther opens the cylinder and counts his bullets. He slams it back in and leans against the cell bars, favoring his previously wounded leg. Wearing his shoulder holster, Uzi strapped in, Rock removes the M9 from under his shirt, rubs his back, and says "This has gone for too long. When I'm back home, I'm buying a-a-a that thing that I can put around my leg and hide this thing. That strap." Revy nurses her head and says "Took you long enough, dipshit." She leans against the wall opposite of the desk, watching Marty and Nicky sit on the floor, pretending to be handcuffed.

After yawning, Revy asks "What's the new plan now? Since Tuyết and that other guy are…well…yeah." Marty nods and quickly answers "Everyone, listen. Tuyết is left alive unless she doesn't cooperate. That happens, nothing can be done. Same with Thụ and the guest that they are bringing in. As for Min-soo, don't worry about him. Just try to keep your distance. I hear brain matter is a bitch to wash off."

Trung silently yawns and sits down on the floor in his cell, awaiting his moment of judgment. Rock approaches Trung and asks him "Your brother set you up to this? Older brother?" Trung sighs and says "Older by a minute. Identical twins." "Dead end job with abusive employers?" Rock inquires without thinking. Trung thinks for a second and says "Best I could obtain with my more beloved brother's help…regardless. He was the one expected to succeed. My bosses were…fine." As Rock and Trung stare at each other in silence, Revy tugs Rock away before a scene could break out. She whispers "Trying to invite him to a cocktail party? He's a dead man talking." Rock grows silent and walks toward the cell. M9 in hand, he leans against the wall, next to Benny. As Revy steps in the cell with the two men, Benny nods at Revy and says "By the way, I never had a chance to ask. Did you catch the Chiefs/Broncos game?" Revy widely beams and says "Fuck yes I did. This back room poker game played it…I'm guessing it was one of those pirate black boxes but I didn't complain about the quality. Lost 50 bucks in the cards, with locals, but well worth the price. I got so nuts when Darrien Gordon tackled that Chiefs punter, you know, during the fake field goal try." "Yeah?" Benny asks, amused, as Rock looks on in apparent interest. Revy smirked and said "I accidently tilted my beer sideways and soaked the old-ass dealer's bald head. Basically I got banned from the cards. So I just took my chair and sat in front. Oh they tried to throw me out, but I gave them this look and they all shat their pants. It was great."

Benny laughs and says "Revy smiling and cheerful. I love it. It's almost terrifying." Revy and Rock each crack a smirk as Revy says "Hey…we got a legitimate shot at the Super Bowl. I'm fucking excited. Sucks about Tampa." Benny grimaces, nods, and says "Yeah, we got Favred. Still, only good things in the future." Revy chuckles and asks "Do you really expect Trent Dilfer to win Tampa a Lombardi? Honestly." Raising his right hand in protest, Benny says "A, after we got a new owner, Tampa's been only getting better. And B, I wouldn't start counting your chickens now. I mean, you got Pittsburgh and Jerome Bettis at the Conferences." Revy flips Benny off and says "Fuck Pitt, fuck Bettis, fuck Slash. We are going to shit on Pitt, that's what's happening." Rock suddenly interrupts "What is with this 'we' business? Do you two work for your teams? Own your teams? If so, why the hell are we here and not sipping cocktails? I don't get." Benny turns to Rock and says "It's a figure of speech. Nothing to be confused about." Rock raises his eyebrows and says "Ohh I have been confused since Revy said fake goal."

"Alright everyone, get into positions!" Marty yells, as Dutch returns to the cell and Ngoc returns to her seat between the two cells, Mossberg in her arms. She pushes her glasses inward and arcs her head back enough for her neck to crack. Turning to Black Lagoon Company, she pulls the cell door slightly towards herself, opening more space, and says "We got one chance. Let's make it go right."

"Alright, sun's starting to set," Ventimiglia mutters, tightly clutching a MP5K, strafing through shrubbery. Rays of orange light peek through the trees as Eddie and Logan traverse through the coastal Vietnamese forest, the latter holding his Mossberg 590 with his right hand, letting it hang off his shoulder. A few birds chirp in the trees as Logan dryly comments "There's nothing like dying to a soundtrack."

Eddie shakes his head and says "No need for that kind of thinking, Logan. C'mon I got tickets to the Eric Clapton concert back in Vancouver." Logan laughs and says "And I'm plus 17 units and with 3 gees ridding on the Steelers for the after tomorrow game, AND I'm set to make 10 grand if Green Bay makes the Super Bowl. So I ain't fine with dying either." Ventimiglia darts a dirty look at Logan and says "You calling 4 grand a unit? Jesus, how big is your bankroll?" Logan smirks and says "100,000. And I'm 51 grand in the green. So I'm doing something right." Eddie shakes his head and says "You have a fucking gambling problem. That hundred grand…you got it from the Greektown score, right?" Logan nods and says "Yep, that one. Grinding out Zappala's pay ain't fun for the risk, so nice to have some cushion."

Eddie nods and says "You wouldn't be here if the points you kicked up from that score didn't get you noticed. C'mon, you can't say the pay is bad. 700 bucks a week salary on a paid vacation, in a place where 700 American dollars can get you living like royalty. Occasional shitstorms but those are rare, like today. That's like dentist salaries." Logan shrugs his shoulders and says "Yeah, but that's because of the millions that the recycling angle is funneling in, plus that Viet-mob guy in Saigon working as a distributor. Those go away and we are back to driving around Vancouver looking for scams to pull before we starve. These cops man…I don't know. I'm just used to point-and-threaten, not getting involved in matters of international spooks." "It will be simple. Clear, spray, and go home. They won't even know what hit them," Eddie placates, kicking a fallen branch to the side.

"First time out of Canada?" Logan suddenly asks, shifting the conversation to something less unpleasant. Eddie nods and says "Yeah. Hell, before this, I only visited three cities my entire life. Toronto, Vancouver, and Ottawa. And Ottawa was a two-day high school trip." After a short pause, Eddie asks "How about you?" Logan immediately says "America and Bermuda. I used to visit Seattle for a week each summer. Also spent a month laying low in Argentina, after I clipped that Native in Kelowna." "Why Argentina?" Ventimiglia inquired, confused. Logan laughed and says "I kinda threw a dart at the map. Hey, I had fun, no complaints there." "Ever been to the old country?" Eddie asks, lifting a skinny tree branch over his head as he passes through it. Logan asks "You mean Ukraine?" After letting out a laugh, he asks "Eddie, I'm third generation. How off-the-boat you think I am?" Eddie tilts his head to the side and says "Ahh, just making small talk. Keeping the mood light, you know?" Logan nods and says, a slight sense of dread in his voice "Yeah. I hear you. I hear you…"

Approaching the bunker, Tuyết, Min-soo, Thụ, and a tied-up Ulagammal trek across the sand, following the trail that Tuyết and Min-soo left on the way to the forest. Glancing at the now orange-hued sand, Ulagammal needles "Hey sugar, want to share a coffin with me?" As Tuyết nervously drowns Ulagammal out, Ulagammal continues "C'mon sweetie! I'm low maintenance." "Shut up, again. Shut up," Min-soo tensely hisses as Tuyết and Thụ glare at each other in nerve-wracked apprehension. Thụ shakes his head and asks "Làm thế nào chúng ta sẽ giải quyết rắc rối này (How will we solve this mess)?" Tuyết grimaces and says "Chúng tôi nói sự thật và giữ súng của chúng tôi gần trái tim của chúng tôi (We tell the truth and keep our guns close to our hearts). Chúng tôi đã không thực sự làm tổn thương anh (We didn't actually hurt him). Ông sẽ có làm điều tương tự (He would have done the same)." As Ulagammal starts chuckling to herself, Min-soo angrily asks "Và nếu anh ta không nghe (And if he doesn't listen)? Và nếu điều duy nhất ông ta muốn là cổ của chúng tôi cắt (And if the only thing he wants is to cut our necks)?"

Frowning at Min-soo, almost angry, Tuyết bellows "Lời nói là bạc, im lặng là vàng (Talk is silver, silence is golden). Như trong, im lặng (As in, shut up). Nếu nói đến đó, chúng ta giết Marty và đi lẩn trốn (If it comes to that, we kill Marty and go into hiding). Tuy nhiên, tôi sẽ không bắn đầu tiên (However, I will not shoot first). Và Đức Phật giúp đỡ tất cả mọi người nếu Marty kéo kích hoạt (And Buddha save everyone if Marty pulls the trigger)."

Out of nowhere, Ulagammal laughs and yells in Dutch "De stront-eter van de Nam! Van de Nam! Van de Nam! De stront-eter van de Nam heeft een dildo in z'n darm! Het is toch, het is toch, het is toch niet gezond! Een dildo, een dildo, een dildo in je kont!" Tuyết glances at Ulagammal and says "Yes, you definitely have Aspergers." Ignoring Ulagammal, Min-soo yells "Đây là tất cả các lỗi của bạn, bạn ngu ngốc khốn (This is all your fault, you stupid bitch)!" Stunned, Tuyết leans forward and says "Cái đếch gì bạn đã nói gì (What the shit did you say)? Đừng đẩy tôi Min-soo (Do not push me Min-soo). Mà đi kèm với cảnh báo của bác sĩ phẫu thuật (That comes with a surgeon's warning)."

"Hoặc là chúng ta đang đi bên trong, hay không (Either we go inside, or not)," Thụ suddenly proclaims, the orange sunlight reflecting off the left side of his face. Slouching his shoulders, Min-soo calms down and says "Tốt…tốt (Fine…fine)." "Chúng tôi đang hướng bên trong," Tuyết sternly announces, before turning to Min-soo and, gesturing her Madsen at him, warns "xử sự đúng mực (behave)."

Tuyết swats a buzzing fly away and reaches the bunker. Nodding at her fellow countrymen, she knocks on the door and yells "It's me! Mở cửa(Open up)!" After a pause, the doors cave open, as the Vietnamese delegation nervously takes a few steps into the bunker, with Black Lagoon Company and Trung staring from their respective cells. Marty stares stone-faced at Tuyết, before turning his eyes to Min-soo. Standing in front of the Vietnamese delegation, her shotgun's barrel touching the ground, Ngoc smiles awkwardly at Min-soo, and then steals a nervous glance at the now heavily armed Black Lagoon Company. Leaning forward, standing to the right of Thụ, Ulagammal blankly eyes Ngoc, and then Marty. Thụ grabs Ulagammal by her hair and pulls on it, causing her to wince, as Tuyết says "She can explain everything. It seems..."

Out of nowhere, Trung yells "Ngoc gave the mercenaries and Martin their guns! They are going to kill you all!" "CÁI ĐẾCH GÌ (WHAT THE FUCK)?!" Ngoc yells out, as Trung plays his only remaining card. "Fucking rat!" Marty yells, reaching for his Beretta. "Wait!" Ngoc pleads, lifting her Mossberg up to a horizontal position, as Revy and Dutch draw their Berettas and Smith & Wessons, and as Rock grabs Benny and pulls him to the floor. Min-soo raises his AK-47 at Ngoc as Ippolito kicks Tuyết in her left shin. Thụ shoves Ulagammal forward, sending her face first to the floor, ducks, and dashes outside, taking cover behind the doorway. Ngoc swipes her Mossberg at Min-soo, swinging from right to left, the shotgun's barrel clanging with the Kalashnikov's barrel. At the same time, Tuyết fidgets at the sight of Marty with a Beretta and darts for cover behind the doorway opposite of Thụ, while Ippolito reaches for his Beretta a moment afterwards. Revy and Dutch line their shots at the fleeing Tuyết, the latter reaching cover before either could fire. Seizing his chance, Marty aims at the back of Min-soo's left calf.

*BANG* *BANG*

Logan kicks down the weakened wooden door to the shack and returns to cover behind the doorway, as Eddie filters inside with an MP5K, coming into hostile contact with a makeshift communications outpost, a bald Vietnamese man in his late 30s, and two Vietnamese men in their early 30s, one with short black hair and a five o'clock shadow, the other with a square-shaped head, a protruding chin, and buzzcut black hair. All are dressed in dark green military suits with red rectangular shoulder patches, light green undershirts, black ties, and black dress shoes, with the square-headed man wearing a green and red military cap with the Vietnamese Army patch on the front. The man in his late 30's, sitting behind a desk with an old beige computer monitor in front and a green AN/GRC106 military radio on the left, lunges for the radio and yells "Nó đang xảy ra (It's happening)!" The man with the square head climbs under a desk that is behind the radio operator's desk, Tokarev pistol in hand. He accidently knocks down a pair of black binoculars off the desk and onto the wooden floor. The man with the five o'clock shadow runs behind an alcove with a concrete wall that stretches from the leftward wall to the middle of the shack. Behind the wall, to the left of the 2nd desk, are adjacent shelves stocked with beige boxes full of note paper, ammunition boxes, and a few AKM rifles, as well as a chalkboard and chalk holder hugging the wall opposite the front door. To the right of the chalkboard is an open window.

Eddie Ventimiglia quickly fires a burst of ten bullets from the hip at the radio operator. The first two bullets drill through the computer monitor, raining shards of glass and plastic onto the floor, the next three pass harmlessly though the 2nd desk. The three after dig into the military radio, rendering it useless as the radio operator hugs the machine as a poor man's Kevlar vest. One of the three bullets passes through the radio and digs slightly into the radio operator's gut. The ninth bullet strikes the radio operator's right hand as the radio operator drags the radio off the desk. The last bullet passes through the radio operator's nose, killing him and spraying blood, and chips the 2nd desk, as he quickly falls to the floor on his left shoulder, the radio fall on top his right ribs before sliding down his back and onto the floor.

The square-headed man glares at the radio operator's corpse through a gap between the floor and the desks, and cries "Họ đã giết Mai (They killed Mai)!" He clenches his Tokarev with both hands, lying on his left shoulder, and unloads at the desk. As Eddie yells "Next!" a bullet passes through the radio desk and into his left shin, followed by a pair of bullets that lodge into the concrete wall. Eddie groans and yells "Ah fuck!" and starts to crumble, firing his MP5K aimless at the desk. One of Eddie's bullets hits the cap-wearing man in the right ribs, making him cry in pain. The cap-wearing man continues to fire through the first desk as Logan funnels in to back-up Eddie. Another bullet strikes Eddie's right knee, followed by one to the groin, and then one to the left thigh, each shot causing Eddie to cry out. Logan hurriedly and anxiously runs toward the alcove wall and attempts to flush out the prone shooter as Eddie grabs the edge of the desk with left hand. The cap-wearing man sticks his pistol through the gap between the desk's legs and fires the last two bullets in his Tokarev's magazine, the first shot passing through the desk and striking Eddie's left lung, the second one missing. Eddie drops his MP5K and slides onto the desk, coughing and smearing blood on the wood and on beige paper folders. As Eddie slides off the desk and onto his left shoulder, his right shoulder leaning against the bottom of the desk for support, Logan comes face-to-face with the cap-wearing man. The cap-wearing man stretches his already ammo-less pistol at Logan, only to be shredded apart by buckshot rounds. On his back, and bleeding from several holes, he drops his Tokarev and resigns to die.

Losing his balance, bleeding from a hole in his left calf, Min-soo turns his head left toward Marty. He only blinks as Marty drills a 9mm round slightly to the left of dead center into Min-soo's forehead. A slight spray of blood decorates Marty's horizontally blue-and-white, striped, collared t-shirt. The scarred Vietnamese gangster falls onto his back, dead, his left leg crossed over his right leg, blood sliding down his left cheek.

Turning toward Eddie, Logan yells "Eddie, fuck! Stay with me!" As Logan hurries to Eddie, the remaining uniformed man turns from cover and aims down the sights of an AKM. Facing Logan's back, he steadies his aim and pulls the trigger. A bullet drills dead-center through the back of Logan's neck, sending his dead, oblivious carcass careening to the wooden floor. As he falls face-first, his shotgun falls out of his hand and bounces harmlessly on the wooden wall. Eddie coughs and hoarsely mutters "Oh damn this to hell and back. When I started to like it here…"

The AKM wielding man kicks Eddie's MP5K aside and stares down the 'Ndrangheta henchman. He coarsely yells "Bạn là ai (Who are you)?! Ơ (EH)?! Who do you work for?!" Coughing blood, tears sliding down his cheeks, Eddie yells "Go lick my balls!" The Vietnamese man sights down his AKM, aiming at Ventimiglia's head. Ventimiglia spits blood out and cries "I'm dying you asshole! You'll be doing me a favor!" The Vietnamese man fires a round into Eddie's right heel, spraying blood, fabric, and tiny bits of meat. Eddie screams out and yells "Just fucking let me die!" The AKM wielding man fires more bullets into Eddie's leg, torturing him for information, each bullet greeted with coarse screaming. Getting nowhere, the Vietnamese man moves his aim toward the left side of Eddie's head and puts him out of his agony.

The AKM wielding man hears his cap-wearing partner gasp for air and rushes toward him, only to find him now dead. Turning to the radio operator's corpse, he places his AKM on the desk and lifts the radio up. Placing the radio on the desk behind him, the remaining survivor flicks a switch, only to hear a few fans sputter inside the radio, and then die out. Frowning, he suddenly flinches at the sound of nearby gunfire. The man yells to himself "Ông sẽ không cho phép chúng ta sử dụng điện thoại di động (He wouldn't let us use cell phones)?! Không muốn cảnh sát bí mật để có một dấu vết (Doesn't want the secret police to have a trail)?! Đụ má đụ mày (Fuck your fucking mother)!"

Grabbing his rifle, the Vietnamese man-in-uniform darts out through the front door and turns his attention to the bunker. He presses his back to the wall with the front door, standing at the corner of the shack. Aiming his rifle at the bunker, unable to see the chaos at the front of the bunker, the Vietnamese man-in-uniform hurriedly runs toward the back of the bunker, aiming the sights down at the sand to the left of the front of the bunker. He spots Thụ running toward the shack, oblivious of the Vietnamese man in uniform, clenching a Makarov pistol as he runs, kicking up sand. Behind him, Tuyết fires suppressing shots into the bunker, arcing her Madsen M50 awkwardly through the entrance of the bunker. She quickly disengages and runs toward her henchman, the latter sneaking a glance to the left.

Before he could say a word, the AKM wielding man, standing on a slightly elevated grassy position, unloads a three round burst, the three bullets kicking up sand as Thụ frantically skips his feet on the sand. He fires another three round burst, the first bullet drilling diagonally through the left side of Thụ's stomach, exiting out his back, kicking up sand, the second bullet grazing the right side of his left arm, also kicking up sand, and the third bullet misses harmlessly and strikes the shallow coastline, spraying a little water and burying itself into wet, brown sand. As Thụ covers the wound to his stomach with his left hand and tumbles back first onto his right shoulder, Tuyết slightly bends her knees and hops sideways into the opening, aiming her Madsen down at the man with the AKM. As the Vietnamese man with the five 0'clock shadow adjusts his aim, Tuyết squeezes the trigger and empties the remaining bullets in her magazine, 12 bullets total. As bullet casings bounce onto the sand, seven 9mm rounds pepper his body, two in his chest, four in his gut, one in his groin, and two in his right thigh. As the first four bullets strike his body, the AKM wielding man grabs onto where his liver would be and falls on his back, his AKM resting over his chest. Blood trekking down his green uniform, the uniformed man lets out deep, labored, breaths as he flickers in and out of consciousness.

Tuyết turns to Thụ and lifts him up with her hand, the latter pressing his wound with his left hand, his hand stained in blood. Thụ turns to Tuyết and says "Cảm ơn (Thank you)." He then pistol whips Tuyết, sending her face fist onto the sand, and says "Nếu họ muốn bạn, họ có thể có bạn (If they want you, they can have you)." Wincing, he barely jogs out of the beach and into the forest, disappearing from view, as Tuyết rises onto her knees.

"Alright Tuyết, slow and steady," Nicky Ippolito blurts out, Beretta 92 aimed at Tuyết. He is flanked by Dutch on his left, aiming his Smith and Wesson, and Marty on his right, aiming a Beretta 92. Tuyết heaves a sigh, tosses her Madsen M50 away, the machine gun kicking up sand as it drops, and says "Được (Alright). Get it over with." She closes her eyes and starts praying "Nam mô cứu khổ cứu nạn Quán-Thế Âm…" Ngoc, dragging the barrel of her Mossberg on the sand, yells, weaving a lie in the truth "Martin understands. We were manipulated by Hiếu Văn Phạm, and Min-soo attempted to take advantage of the situation. We are not going to shoot you."

Opening her eyes, Tuyết solemnly asks "Why not?" Marty grabs Tuyết by her right shoulder and slowly pulls her to her feet, suddenly noticing that she is half a foot taller than him. Thinking for a second, Marty says tensely, with a tinge of coldness "Because you are useful, which means you get a second chance. One 'second chance'. Don't waste it listening to crazy Koreans raving about chem-trails." Tuyết blankly stares at Marty. She takes a quick glance at Ngoc, who is smiling nervously, and subtly nods her head at Ngoc, recognizing that Ngoc may have saved her life. Cracking an uncomfortable smile, Tuyết extends her hand at Marty, who quickly shakes it.

As Marty pulls his hand away from Tuyết, he asks "Where is Thụ?" Tuyết shrugs her shoulders and says "He left me for dead and disappeared into the forest. One of these outside people shot him in the gut, so unless he is feeling suicidal, we can probably go door to door on the unlicensed doctor's clinics in the city. And I now know Ngoc is right. Follow me." She walks up a hilly surface to the corpse of the uniformed gunman she shot. As Marty, Dutch, and Nicky follow, trailed by Ngoc, Tuyết rummages through the corpse's pockets.

Dutch lifts his sunglasses up and stares at the corpse. "Military uniform. Looks official, not a disguise. I call it a safe bet that your military friend sent these people. I don't hear anything coming from the shack." Marty nods and says "Ngoc, Nicky…REVY!" "Yeah?!" Revy yells from inside the bunker. She steps out of the bunker, both Cutlasses in her hands, her shoulder holsters and her hair slightly swaying in the breeze. Marty points at her and says "You three, check out the shack. Watch for any fucks in hiding." "Wait, aren't Eddie and Logan here somewhere? They'd hear the shooting," Ippolito blurts out. Marty pauses, turns his head to Ippolito, and awkwardly points over his shoulder "Yeah, then more reason to hurry up over there." Ngoc, Ippolito, and Revy casually depart for the shack, their guns at the ready. Marty yells "C'mon move it! Revy I'm paying you a salary for fucks sake!" Without turning her head, Revy flips Marty off with her left hand, her pistol's barrel pointing up to the sky.

Tuyết pulls out a wallet and finds a Vietnamese military ID for a Lâm Xuân Phái. She says "Official military. Hiếu Văn Phạm's district. Not a hitman." Dutch carefully crouches by the body, wincing, and says "In a game where everyone has been dressing their people up as someone else, the good general felt comfortable putting his name on this operation. Hiếu Văn Phạm was here either to spy on you or…" "Arrest me…that cocksucking piece of rat shit," Marty swears under his breath. Dutch nods and says "If you ask me, I think General Phạm wants to muscle the recycling scam away from you." Marty rubs his forehead and says "Is the guy stunotz (an idiot) or something? Any coke and ecstasy smuggling went the way of the dodo bird when you all clipped Van Thirith, cause I know Thinh enough to know that he wouldn't piss on these ex-NVA types if they were on fire. And all the recycling contracts die with me and Freddy VIP, so all he's gonna get is a toxic gas box of a recycling center and a rotting jetty." Dutch rises up to his feet and says "This is 1998. Everyone important enough already has a cell phone. Not too hard to call, if not to Canada, somewhere else. Japan and Australia are not that far away, and they are probably big on fining businesses for dumping plastics and electronics on their soil."

Marty sighs and says "Looks like I have a last job for you and your outfit, Dutch. It's going to be a bitch to do cleanly though. Ah fuck…" Tuyết suddenly interrupts "They have returned." She points to Revy, Ngoc, and Ippolito, as Marty and Dutch turn their attention to the approaching trio. Ippolito gets within several meters and says in a heightened voice "Two military guys dead, along with Eddie and Logan. Place was a fucking gun show. They came ready for war."

Marty grinds his teeth and yells "Shit!" Before he could continue, Dutch bellows and interrupts "Have you all forgotten about the Russian elephant in the room?"

A sudden twist of the knob and the door swings open, startling Viapiano, Pasquale, and Chun, and causing Chang and Balalaika to flinch. Jodorovski darts into the room and immediately says "Sorry, sorry." Balalaika coldly stares at Jodorovski and says "Were you not told that I am in talks?" Without saying a word, Jodorovski passes Mr. Massawe's and Mr. Nweke's empty chairs and leans into Balalaika's left ear. As Jodorovski whispers into Balalaika's ear, to her guests' discomfort, Balalaika occasionally steals glances at Viapiano and Pasquale. Nodding at Jodorovski, she says "Spasiba (thank you). Oni ni imeyut oruzhiye (They are unarmed). Okhranitye lieft c Antonom (Guard the elevator with Anton)." Jodorovski nods and takes his leave, avoiding eye contact with the 'Ndrangheta and Triad gangsters. He departs through the door and, as he closes the door, he curls his fingers at the Eastern European looking man in the hallway and says "Anton. Slushei (Listen)."

Balalaika crosses her fingers and rests her elbows on the table. She curls her fingers and says "Daniel Vaynshteyn. Kiril Aslanov. Aydar Garayev." Chang raises an eyebrow and asks "Yes…?" Balalaika slightly shakes her head and stares at Viapiano, saying "These three men, my men…, left Roanapur to Southern Vietnam roughly a week or so ago. They enlisted the services of a Laotian guide and then disappeared from our communications. One of my men investigated the matter and, with the assistance of my contacts in Vietnam, he uncovered that the four men I mentioned earlier are being held captive by a Vietnamese general. A Vietnamese general that is engaged in a recycling smuggling and mineral extraction operation with a group of Italian-Canadians based in Vancouver."

Pasquale, understanding part of what Balalaika said, smiles nervously, as sweat treks down Viapiano's frantic demeanor. Thinking quickly and staring into the table, Viapiano scratches his neck. Chang glares at Viapiano and angrily asks "Fred, what is this?" Viapiano lifts his eyes and says "Question, Balalaika. Which Italian-Canadians and which army general?"

Balalaika subtly cracks her fingers and says "My contacts are resource rich and very powerful in the Vietnamese military. They spent their own resources to uncover this and to inform me as a repayment for a favor. I rendered many favors to these…men and women of power, and I may find out on my accord within tomorrow's sunrise, if I so desire. And…I never mentioned that the general was of the Vietnamese army branch." As Viapiano's left eye twitches, Balalaika violently grins and says "Please resolve this…inconvenience for me before this meeting concludes. For if anyone leaves this room before I get a satisfactory resolution…I believe you are barely smart enough to know what would happen next."

Viapiano climbs from his seat, startling both Chang and Chun, and points to the table saying "That shit is Marty's operation, a-kay? I just collect my points. Everything involving Vietnam is with Mr. Zappala. Come to think of it, what the fuck are your people doing in South Vietnam?" "WHERE ARE MY MEN?!" Balalaika yells out, rising from her seat like a cobra striking at prey. Chang places his right hand on Chun's shoulder as the latter attempts to stand up, pulling him back into his seat. Viapiano yells "I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! You said the general has them! Fucking ask him, I don't deal with that guy." "Then which general? I demand a name, now," Balalaika bellows, her hands clenched into fists. Viapiano waves his hands in the air and says "Huhhh… Hiếu Văn Phạm or something." "Spell it," Balalaika demands. "H, u, fuck I don't know! Look, I got a cell phone. Marty has a cell phone. Let me take the fucking call in the shitter and I can figure this out," Viapiano replies, anxious.

Balalaika glares at Viapiano and says "Whatever you have to say to Mr. Zappala in private, you can say here. Go, call. Talk. I will listen." Viapiano grimaces and reaches into his pocket for a green flip cell phone. While Viapiano fiddles with his cell phone, Balalaika sternly asks Chang "Do you have anything to say about this?" Chang clenches his fist under the table and, masking his anger, says "I say this is a conversation that is exclusively between you and Mr. Viapiano."

"I have a few locations in mind for where those Russians might be held. Very unlikely, but worth to see," Tuyết says to Marty, as Dutch and Ngoc listen. Revy points her right index finger up, to draw attention, and says "I'm going to check on Rock and Benny and the two we have under wraps." As Tuyết attempts to speak, Marty lifts his right palm up and says "Hold on. Cell phone's vibrating. Could be General Phạm."

"Marty?" Viapiano says through Marty's cell phone, which is on speaker.

"Freddy? What's up?"

"Your fucking head on my satellite antenna, that's what's going to be up if you don't fucking tell me what's going on with you, your fucking military connect, and these Russians that have gone MIA! Cause I'm sitting right across Ms. Balalaika and she…kinda wants to know what's going on!"

Dutch thinks quickly and says "Stop, give me the phone. Balalaika will trust my word sooner than Mr. Viapiano's or yours. I can probably nip this before it gets violent." Marty thinks for a while, as Viapiano yells "Well?! Well?!" several times. Shaking his head, Marty speaks to the phone "The general stabbed us in the back. He played a couple of my people for idiots and I think is trying to take the recycling shin-ding for himself. The Russians were hired by Chù Thanh Hoàng and his brother Trung, the newspaper guy and the bullshit intelligence agent. Remember I mentioned that boat that was shadowing us while we here were unloading the garbage and found Nat Gas? That was the Russians. The general caught them and is holding them somewhere. I don't know if he has police or military or bums off the street watching. The people that attacked the safe house and gave Jake a kidney transplant were the general's idiots. The people in the shack by the bunker? Actual soldiers that the general placed over there. So far the general doesn't know that we know, but I have no fucking idea where the Russians are being kept. One of my people has a couple of ideas for that but she isn't sure and we only got one chance here. Now Dutch is here with me. He says he knows Balalaika enough and she trusts his word. Give Balalaika the phone and he'll handle the rest."

Without pausing, Viapiano shuts the flip phone down and asks "Why did your Russians try to kill my people?" Chang flinches, turns to Balalaika, and says "Excuse me?" Balalaika stares at Chang, and then at Viapiano. She picks her cigar off the ashtray, takes a drag, exhales, and says "A Laotian man approached my organization and offered cash payment in exchange for protection in the Mekong Delta. I have no recollection of the man mentioning an assault on your business interests." Viapiano smirks and says "Then I say we are at a no-fault. Penalties offset." Balalaika squeezes her cigar tightly, denting it, and says "Vaynshteyn, Garayev, Aslanov. Do not make an issue out of this."

Viapiano's phone vibrates on the table, as everyone in the room turn their attention to it. Pasquale and Chun glare nervously as Chang taps his fingers on the table. Frowning, Viapiano lifts up the phone and says "What?"

"It's Dutch. Listen, trust me on this. Don't play hard ball with Ms. Balalaika. I can speak with her," Dutch negotiates with Viapiano. Viapiano shakes his head and says "Dutch, give me Marty. Now." Balalaika and Chang both look at Viapiano in surprise, the former asking "Did you say Dutch?" Viapiano nods and asks "What about him?" Balalaika knocks ash off her cigar and commands "Pass me the phone." Viapiano glares at Balalaika, and then turns to Chang, who nods in response. Slightly shaking his head, Viapiano slides the phone down the table. Balalaika, her eyes still on Viapiano, asks "Dutch? Explain to me what this is."

"And then you men and women of high character and great integrity shoved me into this assfuck dungeon and now I'm here with my wrists sore from the rope and my eyes sore from trying to figure out if either you got a tooth knocked out or you didn't brush all the dog shit from your mouth," Ulagammal concludes, prompting Revy to drive her boot into Ulagammal's left shin. "Ahh fuck!" Ulagammal yells in pain, hands now tied to the back of a wooden chair, the two inside the bunker. Revy flips the chair over, sending Ulagammal to the floor, her legs dangling up in the air. She yells "You wanna die dipshit?!" Ulagammal laughs and says "Easy there sweetie. Can't a girl tweak in peace?" Surveying her face, Revy says "You're a meth junkie. You got scratch marks on your cheeks and nose and you smell like shit." Ulagammal laughs and says "I prefer meth connoisseur, why thank you very much." Revy raises her hands in exasperation, turns to Benny, and says "Fuck this. Fucking weirdo. At least Trung's story checks out. Where is Rock?"

Benny says "Where he was twenty minutes ago." Revy turns toward the back of the bunker and sees Rock raising his left arm in acknowledgement. He is seated against the wall, between the cells, right next to Trung's cell. Rock turns to Trung and asks "So what happened next?" Trung sighs and says "They expelled me. I was paralyzed to say anything. It was either my brother loses his job or I get expelled from university. He always acted the role of the politician. He convinced me that it was for the best. That he would use all the connections he attained and all the connections he will attain to settle me into a comfortable position. A glorified clerk, that is my reward. My father left this world convinced that I was an abject failure. Chù never ceased an opportunity to reinforce that belief in him. The newspaper king and his younger brother, the lowly supply clerk for a group of glorified bureaucrats with rifles."

Rock frowns and says "It appears his political maneuvering put you in a similar position again." Trung smiles and shakes his head, saying "There is no decision of mine to be made anymore, aside from making my peace with God. I know I am probably going to be arrested and given a firing squad. I just pray that my brother survives this mess. For as much as I curse the pig that he became, I still hold onto my memories of simpler times. You mentioned you have an older brother?" Rock grows silent. After a minute, he blankly says "A month ago, I lost everything that is good and pure about me to protect my brother, and I promise you that he would have not spilled a drop of water on me if I was on fire. For what it is worth…I envy you."

Climbing to his feet, Rock turns to Revy and Benny and says "I think we know as much as we are going to. First, the woman over there is on our side." Ulagammal laughs borderline hysterically and yells "IT TOOK YOU THIS LONG TO FIGURE THAT OUT?!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Revy yells, kicking the overturned chair. Bulging in anger, Revy turns to Rock and pleads "I don't give a shit if she is on our side. This bitch is Chinese water torture on shrooms. I-I fuck I fucking mean it, she is like that cocksucker that kicks the back of your seat on the bus at random intervals." "Well we can't leave her like this," Rock pleads. Rubbing his forehead and staring at Revy's boots, Rock ignores Revy and says "Alright. Alright. Benny, untie her..what is your name?" Ulagammal sighs and says "Ulagammal." "Ulagawhat?" Revy asks. Letting out a sarcastic laugh, Ulagammal says "Ulagammal Gangaivarchadaiyan Nadar. Call me Nadar and I will eat your limbs."

Revy waves her right arm suddenly at Rock and says "See what I mean?" Rock sighs and says "Just…Benny just untie Ulagammal already. She is unarmed and only trying to get under our skins." Benny shrugs his shoulders and says "Okay. I hope you know what you are doing." As he lifts Ulagammal back into an upright position and prepares to untie her restraints, Revy aims the Beretta in her right hand at Ulagammal's forehead and says "Alright Rock I'll play ball, but if this freak does something stupid then I'm going to find out exactly what meth does to brains."

Her restraints removed, Ulagammal immediately reaches for her hair and inspects it. Nodding to herself, she says "No damage, no entrails to knit. I'm happy. And thanks by the way. Got a smoke?" Benny reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pack of Natural American Spirit. "You still have some? How many packs did you take with you?" Revy says, holstering her Berettas. She takes the opportunity to reach into her right pocket for a pack of Craven As. As she pulls out a cigarette and offers it to Rock, Benny says "Last pack, still got half of it. Here you go." Ulagammal cradles the cigarette in her mouth, as Revy and Benny do the same, and as Rock fishes for a lighter. He lights Benny's cigarette first, then Revy's, then Ulagammal's, and lastly his. As the four of them take their first drags during their smoke break, Rock turns to Trung and yells "Want one?!" Trung yawns and replies "I don't smoke."

Exhaling smoke upwards, Ulagammal asks "Where you people from?" "America." Revy answers. "Japan," Rock follows. "America too," Benny concludes. Ulagammal raises both her eyebrows and asks "How did that mafia guy find you to hire?" Rock exhales a long beam of smoke and says "We are based in Roanapur. Have been living there for several years." Ulagammal cracks a smile and slightly jerks her right hand, sending ash flying behind her. She says "I'm Phuket, born and somewhat raised. Was thinking about either going there or back to Phuket when those Vietnamese meat heads thought I was important enough to tie up. I mean, is that how you treat a customer trying to score some amphetamines?"

"You tried to buy meth from Thinh Nguyễn, the business partner of the same man whose muscle you tried to clip," Revy mutters in a slightly skeptical tone. Ulagammal waves her arms in protest and yells "Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that?!"

Benny takes a long drag on his cigarette and asks "What now?" Revy yawns and answers "Dutch, Marty, and Tuyết are having a debate on which scares the shit out of them more, a Vietnamese general with a false flag fetish or big sis. My prediction? Balalaika will probably put a kill order on Ho Chi Minh. Who else is getting it depends on how pissed off she is at the moment."

"At least we have already been paid," Rock mutters, exhaling upwards. "How much?" Ulagammal asks, leaning her head toward Rock. "Enough," Benny answers for Rock, speaking with a tinge of annoyance. Ulagammal knocks ash off her cigarette and asks "Well how many figures? Four?" Revy tilts her head back and yawns. Jerking her head forward, she asks "How much did they pay you for that hit on us at safe house?" Ulagammal quickly replies "The general promised Weerawat five grand. We were to split it 50/50." Revy yawns loudly and says "Yeah you got screwed."

"Is that the only job you had here?" Benny inquires, knocking ash off his cigarette. Ulagammal takes a drag on her cigarette, exhales toward the floor, and says "No, we got paid three grand each for being the first to track down the Russians. Well, us and Thongvan." "Wait, you know where they are?" Rock immediately interjects. As Revy prepares to yell at Ulagammal, the latter rolls her eyes and sardonically says "Oh yes, I am enjoying this circle jerk so much that I just…just had to keep that information in me for a wee bit longer. Of course fucking not! The general's people moved in on the Russians. I didn't even find their actual hideout. I just bribed a coast guard into telling me about any unusual ship traffic."

Benny exhales smoke and asks "Did you see the general in person? How did you get paid?" Ulagammal stretches her left leg and says "Uh…cash. Except maybe Thongvan, most of us hired help worked through one of the general's lackeys."

Rock nods and says "Interesting. Who?" Ulagammal looks upward, trying to remember. After a short while, she says "Um…Vinh something…Vinh Thị Cao. She paid us for finding the Russians." Rock takes a long, contemplative drag, and asks "What is her position with Hiếu Văn Phạm?" Ulagammal lifts her shoulders up to level with her chin, stretches out the palms of her hands, and darts a dumbfounded and slightly theatrical look, saying "I have no idea. Non-commissioned lackey?"

Revy tilts her head left and right and asks "What you planning, Rock?" Slightly frowning and shaking his head, Rock says "So far, there is nothing to plan. Nothing we can do until we know how Balalaika is going to react to this." Benny nods and says "Yeah, tell me about it." "So can we go out for some fresh air already?" Ulagammal asks, slightly annoyed. "Someone's got to look after Trung," Revy casually replies. Ulagammal turns to Trung, scans him for a second, and then turns back, remarking "I…don't think he is going anywhere." Revy yawns once again and says "Famous last words. Right now he is our only leverage over Mr. Strategos. Look if you want to go outside, just do it already."

Rock tilts his head slightly to Revy and mutters "Leverage…hmm." "You're thinking what I'm thinking?" Revy asks Rock, blankly staring at him. Rock pauses, and slightly nods. Taking a drag on his cigarette, the cigarette half gone, Rock exhales slightly toward the floor and whispers "We could drop Trung off with the secret police, and he could implicate Hiếu Văn Phạm for us. However…that doesn't help us get the Russian's released, and if Balalaika has a kill order on the general, getting the general arrested and put under high security will probably anger her. Plus, the secret police probably will think Trung is covering for his brother. Trung mentioned his brother had secret police friends but the larger faction will drown out a few token allies. Hiếu Văn Phạm seems to have done a good job keeping himself separate from the schemes he put together, at least in terms of attracting attention. Hmm…what else could we do?"

Revy scratches her nose and whispers "I was thinking about threatening to give Trung asylum in Roanapur." "Hmn?!" Rock mums as Benny and Ulagammal stare intently. Talking with her hands, Revy explains in a low voice "Look, the newspaper guy, Trung's brother, is still on Hiếu Văn Phạm's shit list. Ulagammal said that the thing with Min-soo getting his face melted was the general pulling a false flag, but that doesn't change the fact that Trung's brother sent him to bug the recycling plant, and sent Trung and some Hotel Moscow guys to kill us. As far as I know, Chù Thanh Hoàng is the third player in this. It's Chù Thanh Hoàng, Hiếu Văn Phạm, and the 'Ndrangheta in a three way pissing contest. Hiếu Văn Phạm wants to personally arrest Trung Thanh Hoàng and get all the credit for it, at least that's the shit I got from my intuition and everything that Ulagammal said. So…uhh…yeah those soldiers at the shack? They were probably waiting…OH FUCK!"

"What's the problem?" Benny asks as Rock startles in reaction. As Ulagammal says "We…are..waiting," Revy takes a deep breath and asks "Quick, how long was it since the shooting here started?" Benny answers "I'd say half an hour." Shrugging her shoulders, Revy says "I saw a shot to shit radio at the shack, maybe Marty's people cut them off before they could call for help. If it's been thirty minutes then any standby fuckers have no clue what's going on. Anyway, what was I saying earlier?"

Ulagammal knocks ash off her cigarette and says "Before you nearly burst my eardrum, you were talking about the soldiers in the shack." "And…?" Revy asks, waving her left hand as if gesture Ulagammal to continue. "Are you a fucking goldfish? And you were talking about intuition and the general wanting to arrest Trung," Ulagammal answers. Revy snarls at Ulagammal and replies "One, eat shit. Two, thank you. Three, go fuck yourself. Anyway, what I was going to say was that the people in the shack were supposed to signal in the general and his cavalry, I guess when he got enough people in one place. Maybe he was hoping that Thongvan's attempt at clipping us would stir some dissention and lead to another gunfight at the O.K. Corral. He arrests the survivors and comes out a hero. Anyway. What I am saying is that the general needs Trung to nail Chù Thanh Hoàng. That's his smoking gun, his missing fucking link. If we threaten to take Trung with us back home, or threaten to dump him out at sea, he might just release the Russians. I don't know if he knows that he could use them as leverage. Marty probably thinks the same way, and won't ask the general to release the Russians unless he could do it without tipping off how those Russians can be used against him."

After a short pause, Benny nods and says "I agree. It becomes a question of how much the general knows about Zappala's other partner, Viapiano." Exhaling cigarette smoke, Ulagammal says "Well however we get the good old general to part with his Russian P.O.W.s, the general gets a bullet from a…Hotel Moscow you called them I think…Hotel Moscow hitman, and we can all fuck off out of here."

"So it's settled then," Rock mutters. Ulagammal nods, smirks, and thinks for a second. After a pause, she says "Given the present culture of employee turnover here in Martin Zappala L.L.P., I wouldn't be remiss to say that you are a little shorthanded. Well I told you everything I knew and have been…more or less cooperative. And you saw me in action, put two fun sized submachine guns in my hands and I'll make the rain dance." "You want us to cut you in on the job?" Revy asks, sizing Ulagammal up. Ulagammal laughs and yells "Sharp as anal polyps! Do I have to draw it on a paper sign and wave it around like some fuckhead at a W.C.W. pay per view while watching Ric Flair put Sting in the figure four? Yes I fucking want the job!"

Rapidly finishing her cigarette, Revy tosses it onto the ground and crushes it under her right boot. Immediately afterwards, she takes a couple steps forward and quickly wraps her left hand around Ulagammal's neck, squeezing it tight enough to cause pain without cutting off circulation. Getting within an inch of her face, Revy yells "You want to start shit?! Here's your moment!" Ulagammal slowly moves her still burning cigarette towards Revy's left cheek. Gargling her words, Ulagammal says "Ya-You know I could uh stick this in your eye. But I'll behave, I'll behave."

Suddenly noticing the cigarette a couple of inches from her face, Revy let's go of Ulagammal and says "I'll let Dutch decide if he is in the mood of cutting in meth heads." Benny takes one final drag on his cigarette, exhales, and says "Speaking of Dutch, it's probably time to see if he is finished talking with Ms. Balalaika. You three go on ahead, I'll keep an eye on Trung."

Ulagammal, Revy, and Rock all proceed toward the large double door exit, with Rock stealing a glance at Trung on the way out. Stepping outside, Ulagammal let's her eyes adjust to the blood red sky, tiny slivers of the sun visible on the horizon. "I don't have a watch, what time is it?" Ulagammal asks, tossing her cigarette toward the sand. Rock pulls out his cell phone and says "It's 5:19."

"Yo, here," Dutch yells out, motioning Rock, Revy, and Ulagammal toward him. Behind him, Tuyết and Ngoc enjoy a cigarette break, while Zappala and Ippolito walk toward Rock, Revy, and Ulagammal. As Marty points to Ulagammal, Revy says "She is with us…allegedly." Dutch turns to Ulagammal and asks "You here to help?" Ulagammal tilts her head back, stretching her neck, and says "I'm here to get paid. Revy said to speak with you about getting cut into this job. Name's Ulagammal." Dutch rubs his still discomforted thigh and says "If you can figure a way out of this, I'll see Marty about getting you compensated."

"Actually, we already have a plan Revy's idea actually," Rock quickly blurts out. Dutch adjusts his belt buckle and says "I'm listening." Rock takes a drag with his right hand and subtly waves Revy forward. Revy takes her cue and says "General Asswipe needs Trung in some shape or form, in order to implicate Chù Thanh Hoàng with the shootout at the docks where we took out Van Thirith's crew. We do a prisoner swap, Trung for the Russians. Then Balalaika does whatever she wants with the general and we could all go home."

"That's not fucking good enough," Marty suddenly blurts out. "What you talking about?" Revy asks, slightly annoyed. Answering for Zappala, Dutch says "I was on the phone with Balalaika and Viapiano. Chang also was there. Viapiano and Chang got Balalaika to scale back on any action against the general. Balalaika conceded as long as her people are released within two days."

"And…why would big sis do that?" Revy asks, staring with a mix of confusion and annoyance. Before Dutch could say a word, Marty interjects "Because Chang is a smart guy. Smart enough to know that a dead Vietnamese general is going to bring the wrath of Hanoi on our asses. And because Freddy VIP is an economical man. Economical enough to know that a dead Vietnamese general means we have to fuck off out of Vietnam, lose our recycling racket, probably lose Thinh Nguyễn as a contact who probably would get swept up in the shitstorm, and lose a shitload of money."

Sighing, Revy irritably asks "What the fuck you want?" Marty glares angrily at Revy and says "Hiếu Văn Phạm alive yet quiet is the fuck I want. Get the Russians freed and Balalaika pacified, and come up with a way to get Hiếu Văn Phạm out of the picture without sending him to hell, and I will pay you four, or five, 25 grand, alright. 5 grand each or however you want to split it. Just give me something." Dutch quickly counters "25 grand split four ways is 6,250. Make it 31,250 and we could cut Ulagammal in. She is not Black Lagoon so she is outside our pay. With all the casualties your organization took lately, I think you are going to need people on this." Marty growls and says "Fuck it, fine. 31,250 IF you give me this. Otherwise we are bringing out the mattresses."

"For who?" Revy asks, raising an eyebrow. "For none of your fucking business," Marty quickly replies. Suddenly realizing what Marty is saying, Rock says "No, you are insane. You are mobsters. Hotel Moscow is lead and bolstered by Soviet-Afghan war veterans and Russian special operatives." Marty takes a few steps toward Rock and says "Between the recycling score and the smuggling operation, I got 20 million reasons to go to war." Shaking her head, Revy says "Let me tell you a story. About a Romanian teenager that killed a couple of Balalaika's people slightly more than a year and a half ago. She hired us to take her to safety from Hotel Moscow. We took her all the way to Pangkal Pinang in Indonesia. She took like…five steps on dry land before someone blew her brains out." Yawning, Revy adds "If you think the 'Ndrangheta have a chance against Hotel Moscow on their turf, you're fucking crazy."

Zappala immediately replies "I don't have much of a fucking choice, you hear?! I'd shit in a collection box for 20 mil. I got no problem going to war with the Ivan's over the 20 mil." "Then I hope you made your peace with God," Revy retorts, as Dutch yells "Enough!" "Wait!" Rock suddenly yells out. Everyone stops and turns to Rock. Dutch asks "Yes, Rock?" Rock knocks ash off his cigarette and says "I have an idea. A dumb one, but an idea."

Placing the cigar on the ashtray, Balalaika leans forward and says "To review what we covered, Mr. Viapiano's organization will contribute 25 million dollars in exchange for a 20% share in the proposed casino, along with the former Sicilian territories in the Chakri, Vessantara, and Little Saigon districts, the South Vietnamese and Eastern Australian sea routes, all of the warehouses that we purchases from the Sicilians except the two we sold to the Takahashi Syndicate, and the warehouses on Ratsadon Street and Thoburi Street. Chang will contribute 20 million for a 30% stake in the casino, and we, Hotel Moscow, we keep the remaining 50%. Mr. Viapiano arranges for the release of my men within two days and I will not issue a kill order for a certain meddlesome Vietnamese general. And Mr. Viapiano will offer two million in exchange for the teamsters and painters unions, as well as exchanging half a million for the former Sicilian properties on 281 Thoburi Street, 18 Prets Avenue, 26 Prets Avenue, 764 Khao Luang Street, and the rights to open the various fruit stands that the Sicilians used to own. Is there anything else you wish to propose?"

Viapiano turns to Chang and nudges his head left. Chang nods and waves Viapiano to proceed. Folding his hands, Viapiano leans his head forward and rests his chin on his hands. Slightly nodding to himself, Viapiano says "Yeah, the old Sicilian docks in Little Saigon. Piers 42, 43, 44, and everything inside them, including the warehouses and the cranes." Balalaika quickly says "No, they are not for sale." Viapiano shakes his head and says "You're selling us the Vietnamese and Australian sea routes and you are keeping the docks. That makes no sense." Balalaika smiles and says "No, it makes plenty of sense." Viapiano bangs his fist on the table and yells "You don't even use them!" Balalaika quickly and cheekily answers "I use them by not selling them to you. That is the use they have to me."

Leaning back in his seat, Viapiano smiles and asks "Remember when your first casino development project collapsed last year? You fingered Weiliang Kwok's cousin Fung for the sabotage after the foreman pointed him out." "Yes?" Balalaika replies, waiting for Viapiano to continue. Viapiano leans forward and says "The company you hired, Xirang Engineering and Consulting, they are a firm from nearby Pattaya." "I am listening," Balalaika calmly says, her eyes glued to Viapiano's folded hands. Smirking to himself, Viapiano presses on "A contact of mine, a powerful contact, said that something smelled wrong about that casino collapse, and that the 14K cousin had no reason to take the project down. I sent a couple of my people and had themselves pose as auditors for an accounting firm that's working on one of Xirang's material suppliers. They had no problem giving us access to the Xirang accounting records. We combed through Xirang's bills of lading dated from last year to two years back."

Balalaika stares silently at Viapiano. She turns to Chang, studies him for a few seconds, the latter paying attention to Viapiano. Shaking her head slightly, Balalaika turns back to Viapiano and says "I'm still listening." Revealing his Ace kicker, Viapiano turns to Pasquale and whistles. Pasquale unbuttons the top two buttons on his dress shirt and pulls a grey folder out, a few chest hairs clinging to the corners. Quietly pulling the hairs off before Balalaika could notice, Pasquale slides the folder to her. Balalaika opens the folder with the tips of her fingers and comes face to face with a bill of lading time stamped at October 17, 1996.

As Balalaika scans the bill of lading, Viapiano says "Check the contents of the bill of lading. The cement mix is in the bill. My daddy worked in construction back in Calabria. There is no way that you can call that mix 'cement'. More like plaster then cement. If that's not enough proof, we stapled the associated receipt with each bill of lading. Plus several other bullshit supplies purchased at the cheap. If you cross reference the money you paid to Xirang you'll see that you…"

"No, I believe you. I believe these numbers at least," Balalaika interrupts, staring coldly at a bill of lading time stamped at July 18, 1996. "Xirang is clean, mostly," Viapiano blurts out while Balalaika meticulously scans each bill of lading and attached receipt "my guys got their hands on their account ledgers. Their records show a larger amount for the vendor purchases then the ones shown on the receipt. The people at Xirang assumed the whole casino was an insurance scam and didn't think anything about the disproportionate pay for the shitty cement and shit. My contact fingered the foreman for the embezzlement and the person thinks he had some help from the Xirang bean counter. Foreman's name is Pong…"

"Pongsak Shinasarn," Balalaika says coldly, slightly annoyed. Thinking for a few seconds, Balalaika says "There is more to this. Tell me." Pleased with himself, Viapiano says "The accountant disappeared. Even my contact couldn't find him. But I think you want Pongsak Shinasarn more than anyone. I know where he disappeared and what name he goes by now. You can find him in four days, tops."

Balalaika nods and asks "The old Sicilian docks, Piers 42, 43, 44, and everything in them. You want that for the information?" Chang coughs and says "And…" He pats Ng roughly on the back. Ng slightly jolts, frowns for a second, and then says "We, the Sun Yee On, want your claim to Pattaya's Restaurant and Hospitality 112 union." "Hm…that is one of our oldest and most reliable sources of kickback revenue," Balalaika replies, contemplative. Chang laughs and says "Getting sentimental, Ms. Balalaika? I thought you better than that." Ignoring Chang's remarks, Balalaika asks Ng "And why are the Triads getting involved in a business deal that, thirty seconds ago, was exclusively between Hotel Moscow and the 'Ndrangheta?"

Ng raises an eyebrow and gives Chang a confused look. Viapiano lifts his right hand to get Balalaika's attention and says "Chang has done us a great service. Can't a businessman repay a favor to a business partner?" Balalaika's eyes slightly widen as she says "You are business partners now? You make friends fast." Chang quickly steps in "We are all going to be business partners once the casino deal falls in line. I hope everyone in this meeting remembers that once we step outside." To the surprise of everyone, Balalaika starts lightly laughing. In slight shock, Chang digs himself into his seat as Viapiano's left eye twitches. Ceasing her laughter, Balalaika asks "Is this your ultimate plan, Babe? A resounding peace, worthy of the Nobel prize?" Chang leans forward and says "Profit is my ultimate plan. And in our line of work, to have peace is to have profit."

Balalaika stares at Chang for a while, and then turns to Viapiano. She says "I cannot sell the Restaurant and Hospitality 112 Union and the docks for what you offer. Perhaps a three year renewable lease, for the docks, is an option." Viapiano shakes his head and says "No, no lease." Sighing, Chang climbs out of his chair. To the stares of everyone in the room, Chang walks to Viapiano and whispers in his ear. Viapiano looks down for a few seconds, and then nods and says "Okay." Returning to his seat, Chang says "I will sweeten the deal." Balalaika frowns and nods in Chang's direction, saying "Well isn't that nice of you."

Exhaling a deep breath, Chang says "And this is as much an act of me trusting you as it is a business decision. I…will sell you some of our heroin." Balalaika's eyes widen as she yells "What?!" Ng glares at Chang with his mouth agape. Cupping his hands and placing them over his open mouth, Chang says "Yeah, it surprised even me." The meeting grows silent enough for Pasquale to hear a fruit fly buzzing by the door. Balalaika places her left hand to her chin, and thinks for a few seconds. Satisfied with herself, she asks "What price?" Chang glares numbly at the blank wall in front of him. After a long pause, he says "I….have to cap it at 500 kilograms or six months, whichever comes first. We had a good opium harvest, so don't expect this to be a continuous arrangement. I'll sell you from our stock at...at…cost plus 4%. You can do whatever you want with it aside from selling it in Roanapur, Pattaya, and Hong Kong. Any other routes, I will not stop you. However I cannot lose face over this. On top of the Restaurant and Hospitality 112 Union, I want a 25% cut into your pornography business."

Balalaika quickly recaps "I get Shinasarn and a maximum of either 6 months or 500 kilograms of heroin from your stock at cost plus 4%, I give Mr. Viapiano Piers 42, 43, 44 and all their metes and bounds, and I give Mr. Chang the Pattaya Restaurant and Hospitality 112 union and a 25% stake in Hotel Moscow's pornography business. I am in agreement." Chang says "Good, so am I." Viapiano says "Alright, let's all shake on it." The three mob bosses exchange handshakes and make the deal official, with Chang staring pensively with a slight look of regret and Viapiano and Balalaika smiling at the conclusion of the negotiations. Viapiano reminds "Don't worry, my people are working to get your people out of Vietnam. I'll deliver the intel on Shinasarn tomorrow at Rowan Pigeon's place. Have one of your people ready to receive my courier." "Of course, Mr. Viapiano, that can be arranged," Balalaika replies, sounding cheerful. She turns to Chang and says "Thank you. Once my men are released, our three organizations can mull over the details over dinner and cocktails. Would the Babylonian Night Club suffice?" Chang thinks for a second, and then answers "Yes, it would suffice. Yes."

"What the hell are you planning Rock?" Dutch asks. Cradling Zappala's cell phone in his right hand, Rock says "Neutralize as many variables as possible and its nothing more than gambling with the same payout and better odds. Assuming Mr. Zappala here has been forthcoming and honest, this is simple. Elegant. Predictable. Revy got it right when she said that Hiếu Văn Phạm needs Trung Thanh Hoàng. Everyone else has forgotten that this is a three horse race. We use this, we use Trung…I think present company can win." Zappala pats Dutch on his right shoulder and says "You trust this guy. You vouched that he knows what he is doing. If there is some shit you ain't telling me, now's the time." Dutch shakes his head and says "If there is anyone crazy enough to figure a way out of this, Rock is the best we got to be that guy." As Ngoc and Tuyết stand several feet away, their backs to the forest, and as Revy and Ulagammal stand next to Rock, their backs to the ocean, Zappala says "Alright, there you have it."

Nodding, Rock nervously swallows his saliva, exhales, and presses the call button on the cell phone, the caller ID saying 'General Ugatz'. He places the cell phone to his right ear, steps toward the shore, and waits.

Dressed in his dark green military uniform and his dark green military cap, Hiếu Văn Phạm puts a pencil and a newspaper on his desk, interrupting a Sudoku puzzle. He reaches for a nearby telephone with his left hand, takes a quick glance at the numbers on the caller ID, and drags the receiver to his left ear.

Hiếu Văn Phạm and Rock remain silent for several seconds. Slightly confused, Hiếu Văn Phạm asks "Yes?" Rock turns around to Dutch and Zappala, nods at them, and then returns to the shoreline, the sky growing darker and darker as the last remaining glimmers of the sun's rays disappear into the horizon. Nodding to himself, Rock stares sternly into the horizon and says "Outside line. Now." "Who is…" Hiếu Văn Phạm attempts to ask, only to stop at the sound of a dead telephone connection.

Pondering the darkening horizon, Rock turns to Revy and says "It seems very familiar. Laos. Roberta and Garcia." Revy grimaces and takes a step toward Rock. Listening to the rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore, Revy asks "So who are we saving now?" Smirking to himself, Rock turns to Revy and says "Ourselves." Out of nowhere, Ulagammal yells "Well…charity begins at home. Which by the way, I am getting cut into this shit right?" Revy glares angrily at Ulagammal and says "Yes! Fuck, can't we have quiet here?"

Ulagammal shrugs her shoulders and says "Fine, I'll go bum a smoke off Mr. Benjamin in the bunker." "Tell Benny to move Trung into the Toyota. We need to time this right," Rock replies, to which Ulagammal says "Yeah got it."

Frowning, Rock says "We are cutting it very close. If only we had the Lagoon docked here. Vũng Tàu is a distance from here. I hope Thinh delivers on the speed boat. One variable I wish I could have eliminated…damn this situation." Shrugging her shoulders, Revy asks "Feels like four-eyes in the jungle again?" Rock puffs his cheeks in anxiety and says "A former guerilla fighter on a mission of vengeance is not difficult to predict once her capabilities were identified. Past experience helped. This is different, but not necessarily difficult. Just…uncomfortable." "Feeling a little competition at the craps table?" Revy asks, staring into the horizon.

Ignoring Revy's comment, Rock says "He should call soon. If he delays for another five minutes, this means that he does have teams in place somewhere. Help Ulagammal get Trung into Tuyết's car. We have to be ready to leave at a moment's notice." As Revy leaves toward the bunker, Rock turns to Ngoc and Tuyết and asks "Is there enough gasoline in the shack?" Ngoc replies "Enough, the bodies will be difficult to identify." Nodding, Rock says "Benny got the bunker ready. A well placed match and it should burn nicely. Marty, Thinh already sent the boat out, correct?" Marty replies "He said to give his people an hour and a half. By the time we get there, we could lay low for a bit. Lộc An is low key enough. As long as we shake any tail that Hiếu Văn Phạm has in place, we are fine." "Good, good," Rock replies, anxious.

At almost the next second, the phone vibrates, causing Rock to visibly flinch. He picks it up quickly and turns to the now dark horizon. Hiếu Văn Phạm, speaking into a payphone, coldly says "You have exactly ten seconds to explain this before I disconnect." As Hiếu Văn Phạm counts down, Rock licks his lips, smirks, and says "We have Trung. We are thinking about tying weights around Trung's ankles and seeing how fast he sinks into the ocean." Hiếu Văn Phạm pauses in his tracks, stunned, and asks "Why would you do that?" Clenching his left fist, Rock says "Because I don't need Trung." "Who exactly am I speaking to?" Hiếu Văn Phạm quickly, almost anxiously inquires. Taking a step alongside the shoreline, Rock says "Hired help."

After a long pause, Hiếu Văn Phạm says "You are Martin Zappala's mercenaries. What happened to him?" Stealing a glance at Zappala, who is staring at Rock, Rock says "Soon to be unidentifiable, except for perhaps dental records, which I don't believe you have access to." "Is…that so? Why?" Hiếu Văn Phạm inquires, stressing every word. Smirking, fully engrossed in the high stakes poker match between Hiếu Văn Phạm, Rock says "Security. We know what the plan was when you sent your hit squad at us." Smiling, Hiếu Văn Phạm says "Well there is no use hiding it. Yes, we ordered a kill order on you and your people. Martin's idea…he wished to save money in his own convoluted way. I only want Trung. Since your kind only work for money, I see an exchange to be made." Freezing in his tracks, Rock turns toward the bunker, then to Ngoc and Tuyết. He turns toward Dutch and Zappala, the latter two staring at him. "Well?" The general asks, somewhat restlessly. Smiling, Rock says "Yes. I want those Russians and the Southeast Asian that you are holding, have them released, along with compensation." Blinking, Hiếu Văn Phạm rests his back against the payphone booth and asks "What are these Russians worth?"

"To you? Nothing. To us? They work for a party that we wish to curry favor with. I want them released immediately and I want them to know that Windmill and Associates secured their release. Telling them that is very important. I also want two briefcases, each containing 20,000, one in Australian Dollars, one in American Dollars. I want the exchange to occur in Cam Ranh, by the bridge leading to the airport. Come with no more than two people. Any deviation will lead to failure and Trung's disappearance. Am I clear?" Hiếu Văn Phạm nods to himself and asks "When shall we finally meet?" Smiling and shaking his fist in excitement, Rock adds the finishing touch "When the Russians and their associate are released. You have four hours. If their people do not contact me that they have been released, then I will move the exchange to a different time and location, and I will demand five thousand more for each briefcase as a penalty. Repetitive deviations and we will forcibly make Trung disappear and depart. Am I clear?"

"Very clear. I agree to your terms," Hiếu Văn Phạm says. Nodding in glee, Rock restrains himself and calmly says "Very well. I will make contact once I have word that your captives have evacuated to their own safety." Hearing the phone line disconnect, Hiếu Văn Phạm smiles widely and laughs. Cupping his fingers, he speaks to himself "Điều này là hoàn hảo (This is perfect)! Điều này là hoàn toàn hảo (This absolutely perfect)."

Exhaling a labored breath, Rock smiles and prepares to turn around. Suddenly, remembering the general's words, Rock freezes himself and thinks. He mutters under his breath "Zappala ordered a hit squad…could be the general hedging his bets but…hmm." He returns his focus to Zappala's phone, and fishes through the address book. Running up and down the list, Rock scans each name and nickname, frowning as he finds nothing of note. Running back up the list, his attention suddenly shifts to a specific name.

As Revy and Ulagammal drag a bounded and gagged Trung with a sack over his head, pulling him out of the bunker, Rock watches as the supply clerk gets pulled toward a red Toyota Corolla with its trunk open, the engine running. The Toyota Corolla, recently parked to the left of the bunker from Rock's point of view, gleams thin rays of red light from the rear car lamps. Ulagammal lifts Trung by his legs as Revy punches Trung repeatedly in the head-sack, yelling "You in a hurry to die?!" Trung mumbles inaudibly through the sack as he gets stuffed into the trunk. With an emphatic effort, the two slam the trunk shut. Turning to Revy, Ulagammal says "Whew…me and a couple of people from Phuket tried to ransom this Japanese tourist one time. It…went horribly wrong." Revy laughs and leans against the trunk, stealing glances at Rock.

Approaching Zappala, Rock says "The general agreed to the exchange. As I said before, this gives us enough time to escape through sea before he realizes that the men he stationed here are not responding to his hails on the radio. Our biggest concern, I repeat, is the possibility that he has people watching the roads. I told him the exchange will be in Cam Ranh, and given that the general knows about your friends in Ho Chi Minh City, that leaves the southern highway as the path of least expected resistance. Now, Ngoc, you said that there is a side road adjacent to the highway?"

Ngoc says "It should bypass the nearest ten miles of the highway and it is usually deserted. If anyone would follow we can spot them quickly." Rock nods and says "Good, good. Zappala, you, Ippolito, Ngoc, and Tuyết go in Zappala's car. If we encounter anyone, you four speed ahead. For the next day at least you all are ghosts. Black Lagoon Company will take Tuyết's car and drive behind." Tuyết says "Please be careful with it if it can be helped." Rock puffs his cheeks and says "We…will try but I cannot guarantee that. Now, we all get onto the speedboat and move to Nha Trang. Martin, you are positive that the general does not know that our safe house is in Nha Trang, right?" Marty says "I didn't fucking tell him, so as far as that goes no. If he tailed us then who knows?" Dutch placates "Rock, if the general knew where our safe house is, we would not have left the motel lobby today." "True, true. So that eliminates one variable. Getting to the Lagoon is the priority. We can keep Mr. Zappala and his associates off the radar and dictate terms of the exchange. Now, he is not going to release Balalaika's people, I think we all know that. We need to think of a good place to set the exchange so as to neutralize anything the general will throw at us. I imagine that his ego will keep him from involving anyone else aside from a dozen of the people from the rank and file that he could trust. Given how Martin described his ego, it is likely the general will be with his men on-site. If not, then someone the general trusts enough to lead the operation and glorify his name. We take either the general or whoever he sent alive, somehow, and force his hand."

"That is a dumb idea," Zappala matter-of-factly replies. "It is better than nothing, though not by much," Dutch retorts. Shaking his head, Rock pleads "This is the best I can think of, given what I have. Right now the focus is to create a window for us to escape through. It is basic Sun-Tzu, make ourselves invulnerable to defeat, and then go for victory."

"Fucking incredible," Zappala blurts out, kicking sand. Turning to Rock, Dutch says "If it gets to uncomfortable, I have to audible a retreat. There isn't enough compensation in the world for suicide."

"There is one more thing…I have to ask of you, Mr. Zappala," Rock says, solemnly, his eyes staring toward the ground. "Yeah?" Zappala replies, pouting to himself. Rock hands Marty's cell phone back to Marty. As Marty reaches to take the cell phone, Rock asks "Who is Colonel Viet-Sanders? I saw his name in the address book?" Raising an eyebrow, Marty says "What? Oh, her? Colonel Vinh Thị Cao, Hiếu Văn Phạm's number two. Why, you think she might be the one General fuckface sends for the exchange?"

"What does this Colonel do?" Rock asks, focusing intensely on Martin. Martin shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know…kiss Hiếu's ass…does the work for Hiếu...deal with the muscle he hires…the stuff he doesn't like known…wait a minute." "Jackpot," Rock mutters under his lips, as his solemn frown turns into a beaming, almost snake-like smile. "Jackpot. The missing link. The missing link," Rock mutters, pounding his right fist into his left palm, smiling almost maniacally. Realizing what is going, Marty cracks a weak smile that slowly grows wider and wider. Nodding in approval, Dutch says "I get it."

Snapping his fingers, Rock excitedly says "Yes, yes yes! Jackpot, checkmate, we got it. I got it. I…got…it!"

A slightly large wave washes a horseshoe crap against the shore. As its tail flips up and down, Rock turns to Revy and yells "Revy!" "Yeah?!" Revy yells back. Clutching his fists and shaking them in joy, Rock yells "I'm going to win! I'm actually going to win!"


	11. Deal

* * *

A white 114 Hatteras Motor yacht floats in front of a jetty, the jetty surrounded by a forest. At the bow of the yacht, three Eastern European-looking men wielding Dragunov sniper rifles and dressed in military fatigues aim at an approaching black third-generation Ford Transit van. Driving down a crude dirt road, the van stops parallel to the yacht. Exiting the driver side door, a 50-something year-old Vietnamese woman dressed in a dark green Vietnamese military officer uniform and black dress shoes, and a name tag that says 'Cao', surveys the yacht with steely brownish-green eyes. Her faces shows slight wrinkles, her neck is slightly short, her chin and cheeks are slightly round, and she is sporting long, grayish hair tied to a ponytail, the ponytail reaching just below her shoulders. A CZ-75 pistol in her right hand, she approaches the rear of the van.

Her other passenger, a Vietnamese man in his early 20s, sporting a shaved head and slight stubble and dressed in Vietnamese Army fatigues, climbs onto the driver seat and then out the driver side door, walking into cover behind the van. Cao unlocks the back of the van and lets the morning sun shine onto the four occupants inside.

Stepping out first, hands tied behind his back, an Eastern European-looking man with cheap, circular glasses, a bony face, and thin blonde hair tied into a ponytail, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans, and wearing grey shoes, looks toward the yacht and smiles. The Vietnamese man pulls out a combat knife and removes Daniel Vaynshteyn's shackles. Vaynshteyn rubs his now freed wrists and walks toward the jetty, not saying a word to anyone else.

Stepping out next, hands also tied, an Azeri-looking man with short black hair, the hair on his sides faded, slightly thick eyebrows, and dark chin stubble, dressed in a grey v-neck and black track pants, walking in orange tennis shoes, waits for his bindings to be removed. As the bindings are removed, he nods at Vaynshteyn and then waves at the people onboard the yacht.

Next, an Eastern European-looking man with a pointy chin, bushy black hair, chin stubble, and a mole on his nose, says "Nu shto, Kiril, Daniel (Well what, Kiril, Daniel)? Mi svobodni (We are free)?" Kiril smiles at Aydar and says "Mi svobodni".

As Aydar relishes in his release, the three Hotel Moscow men approach the jetty, awaiting their journey back to Roanapur. A Laotian man in his late 30s climbs out of the van, sporting bushy black hair, a green t-shirt, and grey faded jeans, walking in brown sneakers. The Vietnamese soldier removes the Laotian man's bindings and walks toward the driver seat. The Laotian man heaves a deep sigh and says in Vietnamese "Chung cuộc (Finally)." He rubs his wrists and turns toward the yacht. Smiling, he says in a Vietnamese accent "Hey Daniel. We are going on a yacht?"

The three Hotel Moscow henchmen ignore the Laotian man as the Vietnamese soldier walks to the back of the van, holding an AKM. As the Laotian turns around to face Cao and the Vietnamese soldier, Cao says "Bạn đang không phải là một phần của thỏa thuận này (You are not a part of this arrangement)." A sinking feeling overcomes the Laotian man as the Vietnamese soldier raises his AKM at the Laotian. "Khoan đã (Wait)!" the Laotian yells as a bullet passes clean through his gut, exits out his back, and lodges into the grass, sending a spray of blood and flesh onto the bright green grass. A second shot passes through his chest as he flinches and stumbles backwards, in shock. Gasping for air, he shakes his head in fear as a final bullet lands in his forehead, killing him instantly.

Cao motions the soldier to the van and turns to the yacht. She waves the yacht away, almost shooing it, and yells in a Vietnamese accent "We are heading out now!"

"We have our people back. Thank you Windmill. We will not forget it," the speaker on Zappala's black, disposable cell phone sounds off, as Rock smiles maniacally to himself. Standing on a rotting jetty, the Lagoon right behind him, clear sunlight beaming over his head, Rock stares at the cell phone, the clock displaying '10:18 A.M.' He is dressed in his black and white plaid dress shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. He turns around and faces the Lagoon, Marty and Revy standing on the nearby portside. Marty is dressed in Rock's 'Bad Motherfucker' t-shirt, jeans, and brown sneakers. Revy is dressed in her red and black striped tracksuit top and bottom and grayish green combat boots. Both of them are enjoying a smoke break, Revy's cigarette half done, Marty's still fresh.

"I got a phone call saying that the Russians were released, and that they won't forget what Windmill did for them," Rock says, satisfied with himself. Marty pumps his left fist and says "Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. You put a tear in the eye of this weary, sleep deprived Capobastone." Rock extends his arms out and says "It definitely is. I'm calling the general now."

Turning his attention back to Zappala's cell phone, Rock hurriedly and eagerly scrolls down the address book. Reaching Hiếu Văn Phạm's number, Rock dials. After a short pause, Rock says "Outside line. I am waiting." Hanging up the phone, Rock turns back to the Lagoon and asks "Revy, you sure that the place is perfect?" Revy walks toward the railing and leans on it, saying "Ask Tuyết if you want to know the details, it was her idea. But yeah, Tân Hịêp is like ten miles away from Rạch Giá and the recycling workshop. Place is outside the town itself, no civilians to worry about. I think she called it an abandoned motel with a restaurant and laundry shop attached. A few floors, all stairs."

"Good. It will do," Rock replies, snapping his fingers in his enthusiasm. "So Marty, our pay was wired already?" Revy asks, tilting her head to Marty. Marty sighs and replies "Kinda hard to do any kind of wiring on a boat. Look, when this is done I will wire it right in front of you and Dutch and everyone. You gotta give me some trust here." Interrupting, Rock says "Don't worry Revy. I believe our esteemed client is in no position to screw us over even if he wanted." Still looking at Revy, Marty points toward Rock, glances to make sure he was actually pointing at Rock, turns back to Revy, and says "See, couldn't have said it better myself."

After a short pause, Revy, scratching her neck, asks Marty "So…does Ngoc know that our meth smoking freelancer put her boyfriend on dialysis?" Marty immediately sticks his left index finger upward, almost to cut Revy off, and says "No, and I really…REALLY…like it if you don't mention that again for the next 24 hours." Waving him off, Revy walks toward the front of the Lagoon, soaking in the bright sunlight, letting a gentle breeze sway the tips of her hair. She leans over the railing, resting her arms on top of the cold steel. Ash chips off the tip of her cigarette, sprinkling onto the bluish-green water.

Zappala's phone rings. Rock waves the phone in the air and yells "I'm taking the call!" Pressing a button and then putting the phone to his ear, Rock says "We got confirmations that the Russians have been released. However, you missed the deadline…somewhat more then sixteen hours ago. That makes it forty thousand for each briefcase…our price for Trung. I assume you have the money. Yes? Good, good. Naturally, our previous location for the exchange has been cancelled. Yes? I did specify that deviation would not be in your favor. I very clearly specified. Had you met our demands immediately, you would not be in this position right now. Yes? No, now that makes me nervous. Maybe I should put two bullets in Trung's skull and see if the sharks have an appetite. Yes? Good, now that I simplified things for you, perhaps we can proceed. Kiên Giang, the exchange is in Kiên Giang. I will specify where exactly later. Await my call." Rock quickly ends the call, checks to see that the call has ended, looks up to Marty, and says "I will stake my life that Hiếu Văn Phạm is sending his idiots to the recycling facility. That should give us a window. We take the van that Thinh left us and go straight to the motel or whatever it is…perfect…this will actually work. Wow…go wake everyone up, tell them it's time."

Marty nods and says "This works out and you all are getting a little executive bonus…just some added motivation." He turns to the door that leads to the interior of the Lagoon, pulls it open, and disappears into the ship. Revy, meanwhile, steps back to the portside of the Lagoon. She says "Nice line of bullshit. You got all that hostage talk from the cheap rental of the month?"

Extending his arms out, Rock says "You can't argue with the results." Revy knocks ash off her cigarette and says "Money talks and bullshit walks on thin ice. I'll vouch for the results when we actually get some." Slightly annoyed, Rock says "Revy, I'm trying to enjoy myself here. Trust me here, this will work." Revy lets out a forced laugh and says "It's the stuff beyond you that I have to trust…that's what's keeping me up."

Stepping through perfectly rectangular, glass, double doors, an Eastern European looking-man with dirty blonde hair combed forward, dressed in a bright orange Lacoste polo, dark blue jeans, and grey tennis shoes, carries a black gym bag in his left arm. Following him from behind is another Eastern European-looking man, slightly chubby and with round cheeks, a short neck, and a round jaw, dressed in a red cotton jacket with thick yellow stripes going down the sleeves and a zipper going through the middle, the jacket unzipped enough for a white v-neck shirt and a golden chain with an Eastern Orthodox cross to be visible. The underside of the jacket is white uneven cotton with a couple of dark chest hairs glued to it. The Eastern European man is also wearing black jeans and light blue boat shoes with white socks, and is carrying a black gym bag with each hand.

"Dehrzhiti dveir Vadik (Hold the door, Vadik)," the bald man, Pavel Baretsky, hurriedly requests. Vadim Jodorovski obliges and holds the door on the right open for Baretsky, as the two exit Chaudhary Charan Singh International Airport, stepping onto a wide pavement crowded with Northern and Eastern Indians and a few scattered Thais and Western Europeans standing or sitting with their luggage, their first steps onto Lucknow. At the end of the pavement, even spaced out foot high pillars separate the pavement from the road, which itself is divided in half by thin strips of more pavement and a tiny patch of shrubbery with a tiny tree in the middle. A couple of white sedans and a bluish-green hatchback drive off as a grey sedan parks itself by the pillars.

Baretsky pulls a pair of aviator sunglasses out from under his red jacket and puts them on. Yawning, he checks his stainless steel watch to find that it is now 12:02 P.M. He turns to Jodorovski and annoyingly asks "Nu, gde ohn (Well, where's he)?" Jodorovski sets his gym bag down on the pavement and answers "Ni znayu (Don't know). Kapitan skazala shto tsvet mashina zolotoi (Kapitan said that the car color is golden). Chuvak Indus, zavut Naresha (Dude's Indian, name is Naresh)."

From the distant left, a 1972 Zaporozhets-968 gently grinds to a halt by the barricade of columns, the sedan gleaming an obnoxious gold color. "Pashol ti na hui (Go sit on a dick)," Jodorovski blankly blurts out to no one in particular, dreading what he thinks he sees. Pavel lifts his sunglasses up, trying to figure out if he is hallucinating.

A slightly light-skinned North Indian man in his late 20s, sporting wavy, slightly disheveled black hair, bushy eyebrows, and very faint stubble, dressed in a forest green and white horizontally stripped buttoned, collared t-shirt, opens the driver side door of the Zaporozhets and climbs out. He is revealed to be wearing sky blue denim jeans held by a brown belt, as well as dark brown leather boat shoes. The man scans the entrance of the airport, and, using process of elimination, approaches Jodorovski and Baretsky.

The man whispers in a North Indian accent "Are you all Mr. J and Mr. B?" "Ba-lin (Da-amn)," Jodorovski mutters under his breath as Baretsky nods his head, restraining his amusement. Baretsky asks "You Naresh?" Naresh nods and says "Get in."

Jodorovski walks toward the two door sedan, a look of annoyance on his face. Baretsky walks to the sedan, extends the index finger of his left hand skywards as to catch Jodorovski attention, and says "Vot ana, vot ana, mashina moye mechti (There it is, there it is, car of my dreams). Vot ana (There it is)! Zapor blyat (Zapor, fuck)! Eta reyalni Zapor blyat (Fuck, it's an actual Zapor)!" "Excuse me?" Naresh asks. Jodorovski says "He is just having fun with your car." Laughing, Baretsky turns to Jodorovski and says "Vadik! Skolko raz ya usnul na zadnem cidenye etovo mashina (The amount of times I fell asleep in the back seat of this car)! Eto kak v ckazke, blyat (It's like in a fairy tale, fuck)!"

Naresh seats himself in the driver seat, Jodorovski follows Naresh and seats himself in the front side passenger seat. Baretsky walks to the back of the Zaporozhets, surveying it, highly amused with himself. He rubs the trunk of the sedan with his left hand and lifts the trunk door up. Baretsky carefully places his luggage inside the trunk, and then Jodorovski's luggage. Gently closing the trunk, Baretsky walks toward the right door and opens it, climbing into a bench like seat in the rear. Closing the door, he then lays sprawled on the seat as Naresh turns the engine on. The radio comes to life, playing the middle of 'Aage Aage Ladki' by Indipop singer Baba Sehgal.

"… _peeche main hoon sayaana. Duniya kahe baba ho gaya hai deewana. Aage aage ladki peeche main hoon sayaana…"_

"So how far is the hotel?" Jodorovski asks Naresh. Naresh sets the golden sedan in drive and drives forward, taking a left, and then another left." "In Lucknow, northeast of the river. In Gomti Nagar. Vivek Khand is the neighborhood, I got you two a nice hotel room. Shayler hotel, two blocks south of Railway Station Road."

The sedan waits for a FAW semi-truck trailer carrying a large white container that says 'Dhanikonda Logistics' in English and Hindi blue lettering, with a curvy sky blue pentagon logo on the sides of the truck that display a muscular flexing arm protruding from the middle of the logo, to turn right onto NH-25, heading up Kanpur Road. The sedan then turns right and merges with the highway. On the immediate right is a small Hyundai dealership that says 'Vijayanagar Hyundai' on a tall black sign. On the immediate left is a partially complete gas station, the interiors still under renovation. On a blue and white roof coving the gas pumps is a white round sign fastened onto the roof that says 'HP' in red lettering, two blue wings right under the HP. To the immediate right of the sign, a white flag flaps in the breeze, the flag saying 'Hindustan Petroleum jald hih ah raha (Hindustan Petroleum coming soon)'.

As the Zaporozhets drives toward Lucknow, passing open lots and occasional road side stores, Naresh says "All I could get you two on short notice is a pair of Makarovs. I literally had only hours to get them from the black market. If I had more time, I could have gotten an RPK or a Barrett M82. I could get it soon if you want to wait…" "Blin(Damn) no!" Jodorovski mutters under his breath. Extending the palm of his left hand upward, he says "No! No anti-material rifles. Pistols are fine. Seriously, I do not want you to get arrested for doing something stupid."

"Vadik blyat eta Zapor na hui (Vadik fuck it's a fucking Zapor)," Pavel Baretsky says, chuckling to himself, laying completely sprawled on the back seat. Ignoring Pavel, Vadim says to Naresh "Our boss, Balalaika, contacted you through your black market connections here. Can they help us find our person?" Naresh casually answers "Actually Ms. Balalaika gave me enough information to find him already." Jodorovski says "Oh?" Naresh nods and says "The dossier traced this Pongsak Shinasarn man to a money lending company in Vishnupuri. This was before he changed his name. The dossier mentioned that he took a large loan from them to subsidize a purchase of a department store. I didn't have time to check the business directory."

The sedan signals right, lets a grey Hindustan Ambassador pass, and then merges to a lane on the right. To the right of the highway is a university campus with scattered white buildings. The sedan passes a white and blue gate that says in white English letters 'LUCKNOW POLYTECHNIC LUCKNOW'. The song ends, cutting to a commercial break in Hindi.

"Well when you find the address, tell us immediately," Jodorovski blankly says, as Baretsky yawns audibly. Naresh says "Of course. I know what I'm doing here." The Zaporozhets reaches a fork in the road, with Kanpur Road continuing on the right. The sedan passes a bus terminal, a blue and yellow public bus leaving the bus stop. Right in the middle of Kanpur Road, a circular plot of land holds a bronze statue under a white marble roof that incases the statue in four white marble columns. Passing the statue, Jodorovski looks right, and spots a scattered array of business amongst healthy green trees. He turns left and spots a large forest on the other side of the street, a couple of stores in the foreground. Immediately to the right of the stores is an old, weathered, colonial palace. The palace, Alambagh Palace, has two watchtowers on each corner of the front of the palace, on its second floor. It has a water tower sticking out from behind, and appears neglected, its color washed out. The scattered stores become more and more numerous as Naresh says "We are getting closer. In the heart of the city now."

"ETA REIYALNI ZAPOR! NU VADIK, NU-ETA ZAPOR! YA NI VERU, SHTO ETA ZAPOR! (IT'S A REAL ZAPOR! WELL VADIM, WELL-IT'S A ZAPOR! I CAN'T BELIEVE, THAT THIS IS A ZAPOR)" Baretsky loudly blurts out, laughing, as Naresh stares at Jodorovski with a perplexed look on his face. Very annoyed, Vadim Jodorovski yells "Kakova hrenah (What the fuck)? Kakova nastoyashoya hrenah (What the actual fuck)? Ti nakonesto okhrinyel (Did you finally went nuts)?" Laughing, Baretsky says "Otvichayu na hui (Fucking answering you), eta blyat Zapor (it's a fucking Zapor)!" "Nahsh Indus okhirivayit shas (Our Indian is freaking out now)!" Vadim yells back, getting very annoyed with Baretsky. Still smiling, Baretsky answers "Vadik, yemu pizda, blyat (Vadim, he doesn't give a fuck)!" "Nu yecli tak nravitsa mashina, pakupai yebnuti Zapor y zakroi tvoi yoponi roht (Well if the car is so appealing to you, buy the fucking Zapor and shut your fucking mouth)!" Jodorovski barks back. Still in good spirits, Baretsky retorts "Mozhit bit ya budu, blyat (Might be that I will, fuck)."

Reaching a red light, the sedan stops right next to a large sign hooked to the window of a store titled in beige Hindi lettering 'Lucknoh Farsi Asanohm (Lucknow Persian Rugs)'. The sign says in Hindi "A.B. Vajpayee Bharatiya Janata Party 1998. Jai Jawan (Hail the soldier). Jai Kisan (Hail the farmer). Jai Vigyan (Hail knowledge)." Right in front of the store, a young North Indian looking man in his early 20s, dressed in a blue and grey horizontally stripped collared t-shirt and brown cargo shorts, sporting short black hair, holds a white sign that says in black English lettering 'There is a Pakistani Muslim pedophile terrorist movie star living under your children's bed, and he hates cricket. Vote BJP.'

Naresh rolls down Jodorovski's window and yells at the young man in Hindi "Zyada chalak Banta hai Saale (Very clever). Shayad congress tujhe bhainchod quota dede (Maybe the Congress will give you a 'sisterfucker' quota)." The young man replies in Hindi "Aur kya pataa Kisi din tu shiv sena Ki laund chusna band kardega (Maybe one day you will stop sucking Shiv Sena dick)!" Naresh gives the young man the bird and yells back "Accha ji (Oh yeah)? Gandhi-Nehru khandon ke peeche kuton ki tarah Dum hilake maze lo tum. (Enjoy following the Gandhi-Nehru monarchy like a filthy mutt)."

Hitting the gas, Naresh drives through a green light, as Jodorovski asks "You know him?" Naresh calmly says "Nope. Cheeky madarchod was being cheeky." "What?" Jodorovski asks, perplexed. Tilting his head right, Naresh says "Nothing. Political discussion. It's election time here in India." Jodorovski smiles and says "Ahh, gotcha." He turns to Pavel and says "Slishis Pasha (Listening Pavel)? Zdes shas vibahri (Here is now elections)." Pavel laughs and says "Kandidati pidahri (Candidates are faggots)!" Vadim starts laughing as the radio plays 'Jag Jeondeyan De Mele' by Punjabi-pop singer Harbhajan Mann.

A seagull glides over a dockyard in Roanapur. Descending, it zeros in on a bluish green Chevy Tahoe, sporting pristine new windows. It lands on the roof of the SUV, its rear hovering over the front window. Without warning, it shits on the window and waddles away.

Past a maze of shipping containers, Songxie Tong, dressed in a dark blue Ralph Lauren polo and sky blue jeans, walking in grayish blue tennis shoes, and sporting chin stubble, pulls a container door open. Peering inside, Laurent Reynolds, dressed in his Zinadine Zidane jersey and dark blue jeans, wearing sky blue boat shoes, a gold chain with a cross, and a stainless steel watch, says "Que est un grand sac putain de merde (That is a big fucking sack of shit). That is a lot of knockoff truffles." A brown burlap sack of Chinese truffles lies on the floor of the container, a few black grooved truffles lying still by the sack. "There is more in the back," Songxie says, pointing ahead. "How many? I agreed to a thousand dollars of these." Reynolds asks. "Four sacks," Songxie replies.

A seagull flies into the container. Before Reynolds and Songxie could shoo the bird away, the gull grabs a truffle in its beak, turns to Songxie, drops the truffle, gawks, and flies away.

"Pest," Reynolds mutters as Songxie picks the truffles off the floor. He stuffs them back into the sack and lifts the sack upright. Songxie then heads into the back of the container and proceeds to drag the sacks to the front. As Reynolds stands guard at the door, Songxie says "One thousand for pig feed. Incredible." Reynolds says "I got a buyer lined up for the truffles." Songxie grunts and says "Okay, good. Congrats." As Tong places the second sack near the front of the container, Reynolds says "Actually, I have something to ask you." Approaching a 3rd sack, Songxie wheezes and says "Ask."

"I need the Glass King," Reynolds admits. Songxie brings the 3rd sack to the front and asks "Why?" "I'll cut you in," Reynolds proposes. Songxie approaches the final sack and says "Okay. Thank you. Now why?" Reynolds sighs and says "The exchange is in Europe and I cannot go by plane. The Glass King can get me to the Mediterranean. You are co-boss with Ray, which means you co-own the ship as well."

Dragging the final sack to the front, Songxie pants, nods to himself, and says "Okay. Okay. I'll let you take the boat. Don't tell anyone. You need to hire crew out of pocket. Outside our people. I want 20%." "15% and I will consider it a favor," Reynolds counters. Songxie thinks to himself, nods, and says "Okay, tell me where and I will say yes." "Why do you care where the deal is?" Reynolds asks. Songxie laughs and asks "Oh, not so talky now?" Shrugging his shoulders, Reynolds says "Okay, just asking. The deal is in Sardinia. That's about as much as they were willing to accommodate." "Who you selling to?" Songxie asks. "People that are typically involved in these scams. Black market. No one affiliated to anyone," Reynolds diplomatically answers.

Satisfied with the answers, Songxie says "Okay, take the Glass King. Black Lagoon Company has a lot of sailing experience." Reynolds nods and says "I know, I know." Approaching Reynolds, he pats him on his left shoulder, saying "Remember, I get 15%. Let me get the car." As Songxie heads to his car, Reynolds glances at his recent purchase of four giant sacks of Chinese truffles. He reaches into a sack, pulls a truffle out, and inspects it. Tossing the truffle up in the air and catching it, Reynolds flinches as he hears someone yell "FUCKING BIRD!"

Crossing the Gomti River over NH-28, Naresh speaks mid-sentence "…and then the pieces of shit ignore the Ganges while using our fucking tax money to pay for HAJJ TO MUSLIMS!" Jodorovski yells out, at his limit "Blyat shut up! SHUT UPPP! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! I am a Belarusian Jew born in Baranovichi, raised in Petrozavodsk, and spent almost my entire life in the old USSR! I have never spent a single day in India before and I honestly don't plan to come back unless it is for business! Why the fuck do you think I give a damn about the BBP or the Nacholites of Bengal or whether or not Pakistan shot first or whatever the fuck else you spent the LAST HOUR rambling on and on AND ON ABOUT?! Cause I fucking DON'T!" "VADIK BLYAT ETA ZAPOR NA HUI! (Vadim, fuck it's a fucking Zapor)" Baretsky cheekily interjects. "ZAIBIS UZHE NA HUI (FUCKING FUCK OFF ALREADY)!" Jodorovski yells out. Fuming, he continues "TI OBA MENYA UZHE DASTALI BLYAT (YOU BOTH FUCKING GOT TO ME). TI PERDISH YERUNDA, INDUS IZDIVAYET NA MOYEH NEIRVI (YOU ARE FARTING NONSENSE, INDIAN IS NAGGING ON MY NERVES). GAREHLA VSOH NA HUI UZHE BLYAT (LET EVERYTHING FUCKING BURN ON A DICK ALREADY)!"

The radio concludes a commercial and begins 'Ruk Ruk Ruk' by Alisha Chinoy, from the Bollywood film 'Vijaypath'. "Fine, I'll drop it," Naresh declares, sounding insulted.

" _Ruk ruk ruk, arey baba ruk. Oh my darling give me a look. Ruk ruk ruk, arey baba ruk…"_

"ZAP ZAP ZAP, ETA ZAPOR! ZAP ZAP ZAP, ETA ZAPOR!"

"VSOH (THAT'S IT)! NARESH! BARETSKY WANTS TO BUY YOUR CAR! GIVE HIM AN ANSWER BEFORE I THROW HIM INTO THE RIVER!" Jodorovski yells out, about to have a conniption.

" _Gussah tera, walla walla. Nakhre tere, oof oof oof. Love ah love, love ah love, tumseh love ah huaaan…"_

Naresh shrugs his shoulders and says "Uh, I don't know. This car is not for sale." Baretsky quickly and eagerly says "I'll give you 300 hundred dollars, American." Naresh immediately yells "SOLD! A VERBAL CONTRACT IS BINDING IN THE STATE OF UTTAR PRADESH!" Jodorovski immediately starts clapping and yells "Pozdravlayu (Congrats)! Tehpehr vac yect tvoi dolbani zolotoi Zapor (Now you have your freaking golden Zapor). Samoye strashna shto mozhet sluchitsa, ti stanish pidarasum (Worst that could happen, you turn into a faggot)."

" _Itna gussah itna anger, kyon hai tujhko frustration. Teri meri do dilon ki manzil toh hai love station…"_

Naresh smiles to himself and says "Thanks, it's a good car. An old car, but good. I can get you in touch with someone to ship it to Thailand." "Ahuiyet (Fucking incredible), hook me up Naresh," Baretsky replies, pleased with himself. "You want to take over the wheel?" Naresh asks. Pavel shakes his head and says "Later, after job done."

The sedan crosses the river and drives past an oval shaped garden. In the middle of the garden is a giant bronze statue of a turban wearing Indian man holding a cane, the statue on a granite pedestal. Turning right, passing a bus stop on the left, Naresh says "I actually have a business idea you might like." Jodorovski sighs and says "If you are looking for a BBP campaign contribution I am going to hit you." Naresh snarls at Jodorovski and says "First, that is rude. I'm your only guide here. Second, no! I know of a cricket match with two batsmen that are going to swing and miss. The fix is in but the gambler I know wants five lakh, err 50 grand, in American cash as the minimum per bet. He takes five grand off the principal and the rest goes to us plus the payout from the win. Odds are 5:3 against the other team and we just need the other team to cover the spread. Interested?"

" _Dil mera dharke tere liyeh. Dil mera tarpe tere liyeh. Gussah tera walla tere oof oof oof."_

Jodorovski scratches his chin and says "Explain what a batsman is and how points are scored in cricket. I never watched a game." Naresh nods and says "Easy. Batsmen are like those in American baseball. You familiar, yes?" Jodorovski nods and says "Familiar enough. I think I get it." Naresh nods and continues, saying "Batsmen have unlimited attempts to go at the ball. A batsman is out if the sticks behind the batsman fall off or if someone fields the ball after it is hit. I was told the two batsmen are going to intentionally pop the ball up for fielders to easily catch it. The team that the two batsmen play for is the one from Jaipur, which has been eliminated from playoffs in their last game. They are up against Karnataka which already clinched the playoffs and has nothing to gain from winning, so they are probably going to rest their people. So no one is going to notice runs being shaven of and they will just assume that the team from Jaipur is being incompetent."

" _Hey! Ruk ruk ruk, arey baba ruk. Oh my darling, give me a look. Ruk ruk ruk, arey baba ruk. Oh my darling, give me a look."_

"Okay, I'll think about it," Jodorovski replies. Trying to sweeten the deal, Naresh says "The two batsmen go second and fourth in the order, so they are serious. This is not a difficult match to fix, trust me." "How much you need?" Vadim asks. Naresh thinks for a second and says "At least ten grand, but that is just to make the limit. Throw in more, you make more. We split the winnings and pay my guy's fee in proportion of what we contribute." Vadim nods and says "Okay, you give me information on the store Pongsak Shinasarn purchased and we could talk this out more seriously." Nodding, Naresh says "Good. It's free money."

The song ends, and then is replaced by 'Mera Dil Na Todo' from the Hindi film 'Raja Babu'. The sedan, now driving on Baldev Shina Arya Marg Road, passes a bank and a gaming parlor. "Almost here," Naresh blurts out, turning left onto a small two way street. He passes an assortment of clothing stores, pharmacies, and auto financing companies before turning left into a narrow street. "Vot, yeda (Look, food)," Vadim says, pointing at a restaurant with a green and orange awning that says in English lettering "Vivek Khand Best Vegetarian." Pavel Baretsky looks at the restaurant, frowns, and says "Foo, zeilehn ni budu zhraht (Eww, I don't eat fucking greens). Ya ni ohlein (I'm not a deer)." Vadim blankly says "Net, ti Zapor. (No, you are Zapor). Krepki e vanuchih (Strong and smelly)." "Pashol ti na hui, blyat, ahaha (Go sit on a dick, fuck, haha)," Baretsky replies, smirking.

Stopping in front of a five floor white concrete building that has a large vertical light blue sign that says in neon red English lettering 'Shayler Hotel', the hotel sandwich between an electronics store on the right, the store with a red awning that says in white English lettering 'ONIDA', and a sports shop on the left, the sports shop with a white awning that says in red English lettering 'PIONEER SPORTS', Naresh shuts off the engine and says "We are here."

Exiting the sedan, Jodorovski steps onto the sidewalk, spotting a North Indian couple pushing an infant in a black stroller. He turns around and watches Baretsky move toward the trunk of the car and retrieve their luggage. Naresh leans through his rolled down window and says "I booked the room for you under the names Ivanov and Pavlov." "Simple enough," Jodorovski replies. Naresh nods and says "I set things up for you inside a bit. When something solid appears, I will slip a note under the door." "Got it, thanks," Jodorovski states. Naresh tilts his head to the side and asks "You remember what I said about that game?" Jodorovski nods and slightly annoyingly says "Yes. Later. Let us shake off the jet lag." Naresh turns around and watches Baretsky shut the trunk. He turns back to Jodorovski and says "Take care."

As the sedan speeds away, Baretsky blurts out "Paka, moi lyubimaya Zapor (Bye, my favorite Zapor)!" "Ti lohch (You're an airhead)," Vadim quietly blurts out with a tinge of irritation. The two lift their luggage up and approach a glass revolving door. Vadim enters first, followed by Baretsky. Inside, the hotel reception, a dark brown wooden counter is on the right, and a set of carpet draped stairs is on the left. At the end of the hotel lobby is a white wooden double door leading to a courtyard. The entire hotel is draped in green and red carpet with golden fleur-de-lis and lion patterns.

A North Indian man dressed in a black suit and white dress shirt stands at the reception. A bowl of red and white swirl mints stands under a grey metal lamp. The lobby itself is slightly dim, with dark brown and red colors dominating the furniture and wall paint. The North Indian man looks at Pavel and Vadim and says in Northern Indian accented English "May I help you?"

Vadim nods and says "Yes in fact. We have a room booked, Ivanov and Pavlov." The North Indian man blankly, if slightly sounding occupied, says "Okay just…let me check." After flipping through a ledger, quickly scanning down the page and muttering the names to himself, he stops and says "Okay, room 301, up the steps, first door on the right." The North Indian man turns around and faces an array of cabinets with various brass keys connected to ring key chains hanging on metal bars. He grabs two brass keys and returns to the counter. Putting the keys on the counter, he says "You both get a key. Losing them will incur a 2000 rupee fee to replace the lock. We have a continental breakfast between 8 A.M. and 11 A.M. and a selection of wines for purchase, as well as room service."

As Vadim and Pavel each pocket a key, Vadim says "Thank you," and turns toward the stairs, with Pavel following from behind.

Looking through thermal goggles, a 50-something year-old Vietnamese woman dressed in a dark green Vietnamese military officer uniform and black dress shoes, and a name tag that says 'Cao', stares through a Generation 0 infrared handheld camera. The woman, Colonel Vinh Thị Cao, aims the lens at a slightly washed out, grey colored, four floor, wooden building designed as a hotel with a laundromat on the first floor next to the front entrance, a Vietnamese restaurant and hall on the front entrance with large windows peering into the restaurant on the second floor, and hotel lodgings on the sides and upper floors of the building. A giant worn sign on the right side of the building says in Vietnamese lettering "Gia Long Cung Điện (Gia Long Palace)." Under the sign is a large, weathered portrait of the first Emperor of Vietnam, Gia Long, sporting his pointy beard and thick moustache, adorned in his Imperial attire, and glaring thoughtfully, almost disappointedly, at the weathered structure before him.

Next to her, Hiếu Văn Phạm dressed in his usual officer attire, asks "Bao nhiêu (How many)?" Vinh Thi Cao puts the infrared camera down and says "Vẫn còn ba (Still three)." General Phạm asks "Bạn có chắc chắn (Are you sure)?" Colonel Cao turns the general and sarcastically says "Trên thực tế, tôi nghĩ rằng tôi thấy một trong số họ phát triển cánh và bay xung quanh (Actually, I think I saw one of them grow wings and fly about)." General Phạm sighs and motions for the camera. Colonel Cao shakes her head and says "Pin qua đời (The battery just died)." The general glares at Cao and asks "Những gì (What the)? Đúng bây (Just now)?" Cao turns back to the hotel and says "Đi theo máy ảnh (Take the camera). Hãy vui vẻ nhìn chằm vào một màn hình màu đen (Have fun staring at a black screen)."

Growling in annoyance, General Phạm climbs to his feet, the two on a hill overlooking the highway, the town of Tân Hịêp in the nearby distance. Behind him, over thirty Vietnamese soldiers, mostly male, clean shaven, and in their 20s, lay prone against the grass, five green UAZ-452 military transport trucks behind them. The Vietnam People's Ground Forces soldiers all carry either AKMs, SKS-45 carbines, or RPKs. Two soldiers, one male in his in his early 20s, sporting a shaved head and slight stubble, the other female in her early 30s, inspect their Dragunov sniper rifles. They all are wearing dark green and light green camouflage uniforms and holding several pouches attached to a beige belt.

The general turns around to his force of 30 or so, points at a few scattered soldiers, and yells "Với tôi (With me)!" Three male soldiers carrying AKMs, a female soldier carrying an SKS-45, and a male soldier carrying an RPK, all climb to their feet and approach their commander. The general turns to the colonel and says "Như chúng ta đã thảo luận, gửi tất cả mọi người trong lúc tín hiệu của tôi (As we discussed, send everyone at my signal to me)."

Colonel Cao nods and says "Tất nhiên (Of course)." She tosses the infrared camera to the side, and reaches for her CZ-75 hidden in the grass. As General Phạm and his entourage approach the entrance, a smile creeps onto Colonel Cao's face.

The five Vietnamese soldiers, led by the commanding officer Phạm, approach the sky blue colored wooden double doors, and enter into a dilapidated, barely lit hotel lobby reception with a worn wooden desk in the far middle flanked by two once intricate wooden staircases leading to a platform above, that then leads to the 2nd floor. The entire floor and both staircases are adorned in red and white rose petal patterned carpets with a blood red color filling in the spaces. The walls have worn, slightly torn portrait-like wallpapers of French priest Pigneau de Behaine on the left and Empress Thừa Thiên on the right. A fallen brass chandelier rests in the middle, surrounded by glass fragments. Urine, garbage, and vomit stains swirl a foul cocktail of odors.

"Tôi không thấy bất kỳ người lang thang (I do not see any vagrants)," the general blurts out, looking slightly unnerved. "Hãy cảnh giác (Be alert). Chỉ có ba trong số họ có ở đây (Only three of them here)," the general commands to his rear guard. The five soldiers all slowly follow the general's lead, all of them aiming down their sights at perceived shadows and ambush spots. The general turns around and motions four soldiers to take the left staircase. The three AKM wielding soldiers and the SKS-45 wielding soldier divert to the staircase as the RPK wielding soldier moves in front of the general and proceeds up the staircase, with the general following. The six slowly climb up, listening for any sudden noises.

A glass wine bottle falls off the staircase and cracks on the carpet. "Đó là gì (What was that)?" the SKS-45 wielding soldier asks, as the four on the left staircase aim at the source of the noise. She looks up as the RPK wielding soldier says "Bỏ qua nó (Ignore it). Đó là tôi (That was me)."

The six converge on the platform, and then head up another set of carpeted stairs to the 2nd floor. Turning around, they discover a derelict dining hall full of worn dinner tables, some with dirty table cloth on them. Two doors flank on each side. On the opposite end is a dirty, worn cocktail bar with several shattered glass bottles on the shelves. Two opened doors on both sides of the bar reveal a brightly lit room behind it. The floor itself is laminated beige maple wood, now devoid of its luster. Several partially lit, small, glass, overhead chandeliers gives the dining hall a little light. The walls are adorned with torn, faded, slightly scratched wall paintings of the landscapes of Saigon Citadel and Gia Long's palace in Hue, casting a discerning gloom on the barely lit dining hall. One of the AKM wielding soldiers checks the door on the near left, finding it locked. He turns around and shakes his head.

The soldiers proceed to check the remaining three doors, all finding them locked. The RPK wielding soldier notices a loud speaker in the far corner but quickly dismisses it. Hiếu Văn Phạm points at the AKM wielding soldiers and assigns one each to the locked side doors closest to the bar, the two soldiers moving into position by the bar, out of sight from those in the opposite room. The remaining AKM wielding soldier, the SKS-45 wielding soldier, and the RPK wielding soldier, all then move behind Hiếu Văn Phạm as the general draws a CZ-75 pistol from a holster. They follow the general into the open doorway on the right.

They step inside to find a manager's office with Rock, dressed as he was earlier, holding his M9 in his right hand, and Dutch, dressed in his dark green flak jacket, white undershirt, and dark green cargo pants and belt buckle attire, holding his Smith & Wesson 629 revolver, both stand behind Trung Thanh Hoàng, the latter gagged with duck tape, dressed in a dark grey sweater and black track pants, struggling to stay on his feet. Rock pulls Trung up by his sweater collar and presses the barrel of his M9 against the back of Trung's head, as Dutch lifts his revolver at the approaching Vietnamese delegation. Behind Rock, Dutch, and Trung is a dark brown, weathered, leather sofa. An empty bookcase lies on the wall to the right of Rock. On the opposite wall, facing the bookcase, is a wooden door, which the remaining AKM wielding soldier rests against. Opposite Rock, Dutch, and Trung, is a blank wall with a white board and a single red marker lying on a metal shelf attached to the white board. Aiming their guns, the SKS-45 soldier takes the general's right flank while the RPK soldier takes the general's left. The three stand in front of the white board and stare down Trung and his hostage takers. The general suddenly notices a slightly unhinged smirk on Rock's face.

After a tense few seconds, the general says "So you must be Windmill. I thought there were at least four of you." Rock turns to Dutch, smiles as he presses the barrel of his gun deeper into Trung's skull, as Trung mumbles in apprehension, and says "Well...I…specifically told you to bring only three people, and two briefcases." Rock wraps his left hand around Trung's left shoulder and presses him closer, almost in a faux embrace. His pistol still pressing against Trung's head, Rock says "Now…I am an educated man, my retinas are fully functioning, and I remember that I specifically…specifically…instructed you to come with TWO briefcases and no more than TWO people. Yet, what do I see? Hmm, oh yes. Three bodyguards, no briefcases. Now…that makes me very nervous…and BELIEVE ME…I am not a guy you want nervous."

Laughing, Dutch says "Listen to what boss here has to say. It will be good for your health." As the three Vietnamese soldiers anxiously aim their guns at Rock and Dutch, the general calmly says "Relax yourself. I was under the impression from our previous talks that I would be negotiating with someone more collected. Nevertheless, I have the money. Let me repeat, I have, the money. I also have a keen interest to keep this as quiet as possible. As such, as long as you leave Vietnam immediately and never return, you will be left unmolested." Clutching tightly on his M9 and swinging Trung left and right, Rock says "And that is why we are going to take whatever transportation you arrived with and leave you with this fine gentleman." Forcing himself from smiling, the general raises his hands in faux surrender and says "Yes, yes, that is fine. I will give you four hours before I sound the alarm." "FIVE!" Rock yells out, startling everyone including Dutch, who flinches. Shaking his head, the general says "Four. That is the most I can give you without casting suspicion on myself. Now listen closely, retaliation against myself will bring the entire might of the Vietnamese military onto your heads. I cannot control my associates if I am dead, and I certainly cannot stop Hanoi from acting. Attack me, and you will be hunted to the edge of the earth, and then you will be pushed. However, I do not believe that will be an issue, as I am willing to conclude this transaction, and I believe that you are as well. I have released the Eastern Europeans as promised, and I have brought your compensation as promised. I have demonstrated most definitely that I am a man of my word. Now, as you Americans say, do we have a deal?"

Suddenly, Rock starts laughing sadistically, unnerving the Vietnamese and causing Dutch to dart an uncomfortable look at Rock. His adrenaline pumping and his ego fully stroked from the game he is playing with a military bureaucrat, from the lies that he identifies and fires right back, from the narcotic sensation pulsating through his veins as he convinces himself that, for once, he is going to win, on his terms, and reap his own rewards, Rock caresses Trung's chin with his left hand, looks upward, freezes, cracks a maniacal smile, dances the dance of the dead, and yells at the very top of his lungs "DEAL!" as he blows Trung's brains out.

Blood and tissue sprays all over Rock's face and chest, his lips tasting a few drops, as Trung's corpse falls to the ground, and as a shotgun round blasts diagonally upward through the door that the AKM wielding soldier was leaning against, punching through the upper part of his chest and neck, partially decapitating him and sending blood, tissue, and fabric into the air.

The soldier falls face forward, dead, as the SKS-45 wielding soldier looks right in terror, as the RPK wielding man pulls the trigger, and as the general's calm demeanor slowly morphs into horror as he realizes that he has been played. A bullet from Dutch's revolver strikes the barrel of the RPK as a couple of shots fly harmlessly and barely over Rock's head, followed by another .357 revolver round that clears through both the soldier's chest and the white board, lodging into the wall and taking a spray of blood and clothing along for the ride. As the RPK wielding soldier steps backwards in shock, a third .357 round punches right through his chin and out of his neck, killing him and sending him backwards, his head slamming against the white board, causing it to tip backwards as well.

As the female soldier turns around, a bullet from Rock's M9 strikes her left shoulder, causing her to misfire into the ceiling. Dutch fires two more bullets in succession, the first striking her right lung, causing her to twist to the right, the second entering through her left rib and drilling through her bowels. She drops face first and to the right, onto her rifle, yelling pain as she bleeds all over the floor.

The AKM wielding soldier on the door to the left of the manager's office, from Rock's perspective, gets up and prepares to run into the hallway, only for a burst of bullets to fly through the door and pepper the soldier, striking him in the left hand, right forearm, and pelvis. He loses his balance and falls on his right ribs, in shock. The door is then kicked down, as Revy, dressed as she was before, Heckler and Koch MP5A3 in her hands, unloads onto the wounded Vietnamese soldier, finishing him off. She spots the remaining soldier from across the bar and ducks back into cover behind a space between the doorway and the wall, as bullets zip into what seems to be a security room with a few broken TV monitors.

Suddenly, the door diagonally across from the door to the security room is kicked off its rotted hinges, as Ulagammal, dressed in her blue and white polka-dot patterned buttoned shirt and her black slacks, and wearing white and red tennis shoes and white socks, her hair tied into a ponytail, aims with her right hand a MAC-10 submachine gun at the Vietnamese soldier crouching by the bar, a Colt 1903 Hammerless pistol in her left hand. Behind Ulagammal is a hallway for a set of hotel rooms stretching to the other end of the building. The AKM wielding soldier overhears the door being kicked down and aims his rifle at Ulagammal. As he prepares to open fire, Ulagammal leaps forward and onto a dining table, the rotting table collapsing under her weight. She then rolls as bullets fly over, using the legs of another dining table in front of her for makeshift cover. She quickly unloads nearly her entire magazine in full-auto fire, spraying bullets all over the bar counter, a few bullets flying harmlessly into the manager's office, causing Rock and Dutch to flinch. She hears a man groan in pain, climbs back up, and runs toward the bar, vaulting over it, her eyes glued to her left. She lands on her ass and sees the AKM wielding soldier lying on his back, bleeding from his left ear, aiming his rifle at the dining table that she used for cover. He dares to look left, and is rewarded with the last five bullets in Ulagammal's MAC-10, shredding his head and upper chest, killing him.

Hiếu Văn Phạm falls to his knees, drops his CZ-75, and frantically speaks "You idiots have all killed yourselves! I have an entire platoon standing outside! Harm one hair on my head and your entire families will be exterminated!" Rock, still engrossed in the game he is playing, still savoring the progress of his final maneuver, laughs at the general, bows forward with his hands on his thighs, and says "I know, I put them there. And they are now ALL going to die."

Dutch walks toward the wounded female soldier that is now crawling toward the door that was broken with a shotgun blast. As the door swings inward, revealing Ngoc, dressed in a sleeveless sky blue corduroy vest, a black tank top under the vest, black and purple striped sweat pants, and light brown tennis shoes, Ngoc steps out and over the nearby corpse, Mossberg 500 in her hands. As she prepares to execute the last of Hiếu Văn Phạm's entourage, Dutch says "I got it. Go check the dining hall." Ngoc says "Alright," and kicks the dead soldier's AKM out of the dying woman's reach, and then moves into the dining hall. Ulagammal yells "Did we get them all?" As Rock aims his M9 at the general, Dutch moves over to the dying soldier and puts a bullet into the back of her head, killing her. Ulagammal responds to the gunshot "I take that as a yes."

Revy enters the manager's office, scans the damage done, and turns to Rock. She flinches at the sight of his face being covered in blood and possible brain matter. "What?" Rock asks as Revy stares at him. "Uh, your face?" Revy responds, circling her left index finger around her head for emphasis. Rock nods and says "Oh, yeah, that happened, did not expect that." Glaring at the general, Revy asks "Is it time for that shit?" Rock gestures his left hand at Revy, pointing at her with his left index finger, and jerks his head downward, yelling "Fuck yes it's time for that shit!" As Revy funnels out of the office and into the security room, Rock turns his attention to the general and says "You've been fucking us all long enough. Now it's time for my reach-around!"

Dutch chuckles and says "I don't think you know what that means." Rock ignores his boss and continues glaring at the general, enjoying himself. Revy approaches a console by the monitors and reaches toward a small black button.

Colonel Cao yells "Nguyễn (Nguyen)! Bạn và người đàn ông của bạn đi bảo vệ cửa phía trước (You and your men go protect the front door)! Phần còn lại, lẩy hai lối vào phía (The rest, take the two entrances). Chúng tôi sẽ tuôn chúng ra (We will flush them out)!" Ten Vietnamese soldiers, seven men and three women, all wielding AKMs or SKS-45s, prepare to funnel into the laundromat, as nine Vietnamese soldiers, five men and four women, three of the men and one of the women wielding AKMs and the rest wielding RPKs, run toward a rear outdoor staircase leading to a balcony on the 2nd floor. The remaining force, nine total, six men and three women, wielding a mix of AKMs, SKS-45s, and RPKs, crowd around the front entrance, as the two snipers crawl to a better vantage point on top of the hill.

As soon as the ten Vietnamese soldiers prepare to step into a laundry room, the room with four 1994 Kenmore washing machines, four 1994 Kenmore dryers, and a dimly lit set of stairs opposite the entrance, the loud speakers all over the building, including the one right above the laundry room, blast at ear splitting volumes 'Ratamahatta' by Brazilian heavy metal band Sepultura.

One male and one female soldier stumble into the laundry room, caught off guard by the sudden soundtrack. An errant step by the male soldier causes a spider web of tripwire to snap, as eight individual grenades come undone inside the eight machines.

As a third female soldier enters the laundry room, the explosion sends glass, pieces of metal, and shrapnel criss-crossing throughout the room, engulfing the room in smoke and sending the entering female soldier flying backwards, her guts hanging out of her belly, chunks of wood from the house flying with her. Her AKM rifle flying over the heads of her fellow soldiers. She gargles blood as a sharp pain registers in her head, her neck slashed open by shrapnel. Blood spills out like water from a torn plastic bag, as the soldier flickers in and out of consciousness, about to die. One of the male soldiers temporarily tends to the dying woman as the other six rush into the laundry room, finding it a mess of debris and broken glass, with two mangled corpses buried under the debris, one of the corpses missing an arm that has been blown to the side, the other without a leg from the lower bit of the thigh down. A couple of fingers tilt side to side on the edge of one of the dryers. The remaining soldier returns to his squad and shakes his head solemnly, as one of the other male soldiers points toward the staircase, the music too loud to communicate verbally.

The seven proceed to run up the stairs, when one of the male soldiers grabs the other by his shirt collar and gestures at his eyes, then at the ground, then simulating an explosion with his right hand. He harshly pats the man on the back as the other soldier nods solemnly and moves up the stairs at a slower pace.

" _Biboca Garagem Favela. BIBOCA GARAGEM FAVELA! Fubango maloca bocada. FUBANGO MALOCA BOCADA!"_

The stairs reach a turning point and then another set of steps. The seven soldiers reach the floor above the laundry room, only to find a spiral wooden staircase with white intricate handrails that have been weathered with age. The seven soldiers then move up the stairs. At the top, mostly hidden from view, Tuyết, dressed in a light green shirt and jeans, her Madsen M50 on the wooden floor next to her, places her right index finger on a tripwire. Hanging across her, hidden behind an alcove in the ceiling, is a cluster of three loosened M26 grenades hanging above the staircase, their safety pins slightly undone and tripwire tying the striker levers together. Tuyết peers down the on the seven and quietly counts their heads, her finger not leaving the proximity of the tripwire.

" _PORRA!"_

Tuyết pulls down on the wire, snapping it. The three M26 grenades bounce a few steps right in front of the lead soldier, who glares in horror as the striker levers come undone and the three green lemons bounce under his feet and down the stairs like runaway dominos."Đụ tôi (Fuck me)! Lựu đạn (Grenades)!" the male soldier in front, SKS-45 in hand, yells out, as seven remaining soldiers realize what is happening.

" _Um, dois, três, quarto!"_

The three grenades detonate under the feet of the back three soldiers, blowing the stairs off their hinges as limbs, broken guns, blood, guts, and sawdust rain down below, followed by the corpses of three male and one female Vietnamese Ground Forces soldiers. The third soldier from the back of what is left of the squad yells in pain as shrapnel pierces his back and neck like a overused voodoo doll, the wooden step under his feet crumbling rapidly. His AKM falls out of his hands. As blood runs down his back and as the two soldiers in front run up the crumbling steps, the soldier in the back falls downward and hits his chin against the planks in front of him, before falling to the mosh pit down below. Tuyết rises from her feet, aiming her Madsen M50 down the sights, and fires.

Two bullets hit the soldier in front in the heart and upper chest, causing him to drop his SKS-45, a third bullet hits the soldier in back in his left hand, followed a bullet to his AKM, causing the AKM wielding soldier to crack his trigger finger against the jolt of his gun. As the soldier in front takes his last gasp of sawdust and gun-smoke infused air, sliding backwards against the soldier in the back, almost pushing him off the giant gap that once were stairs, a bullet hits the now dead SKS-45 wielding soldier in the head, as Tuyết's aim rises up. Two bullets punch through the AKM holding soldier's upper chest, follow by a grazing shot against his left cheek, and then a finishing shot through the left side of his temple. The AKM wielding soldier's corpse leans against the handrail and falls through it, as the rotting stairs surrender under the weight of the two corpses and collapses with them. The two bodies strike the ground with a thud, accompanied by what once remained of the stairs. Tuyết aims her Madsen downward and sprays the corpses with bullets from afar, and then sighs and nods to herself.

Nine Vietnamese soldiers, five men and four women, three of the men and one of the women wielding AKMs and the rest wielding RPKs, all run across a hallway flanked by hotel rooms on their right and a blank wall with occasional windows on their left, the floor made of laminated beige maple wood and the walls plastered and painted forest green. At the very end of the hallway, the soldiers could see a wooden door with a few bullet holes in it. As they near the door, one of the men kicks through a tripwire attached to a hotel room door on their right, door 216. Door 216 then detonates, knocking off their feet all but the male RPK wielding soldier in back and the RPK wielding female soldier in front. Shrapnel lodged firmly into chests of one of the female RPK wielding soldiers and one of the male AKM wielding soldiers, the two yell in pain as they bleed out.

Out of nowhere, the door several meters behind them, door 214, is knocked off its hinges as Nicky Ippolito, dressed in a black and red striped tracksuit top and grey sweatpants, armed with a Steyr AUG bullpup assault rifle peeks out of cover and opens fire. As he pulls the trigger, Martin Zappala, dressed as he was before, armed with a Beretta 92, fires from a prone position behind Ippolito. As the remaining soldiers, minus the two bleeding soldiers that are now flickering in and out of consciousness, climb up to their feet, the two 'Ndrangheta gangsters raining bullets in their general direction. A 5.56 round from the Steyr passes through the chest of the male RPK soldier closest to the two Italian-Canadians, ricochets out, and lodges itself into a female soldier's left arm. As the male RPK wielding soldier jolts and gasps, a second shot cuts through his aorta, followed by another through his left lung. He drops his gun and tilts to the left, before crashing headfirst into the wall.

" _Zé do caixão, zumbi, e lampião."_

One of Marty's shots catches the female AKM wielding soldier in her left leg, followed by another into her thigh, causing her to yell in pain. Ippolito switches his attention to her and an AKM wielding male soldier to her right, gunning them down.

" _Zé do caixão, zumbi, e lampião."_

The remaining three RPK gunners, two female and one male, and the remaining male AKM rifleman, get their bearings and open fire at the doorway. A bullet barely grazes Ippolito's left knuckle, causing him to fall backwards over his boss. Marty quickly crawls to the back of the room, firing a few parting shots as bullets pass through the walls and over their heads, as Ippolito continues to shoot through the wall at a meticulous pace, just enough to discourage them from coming closer.

" _Zé do caixão, zumbi, e lampião."_

One lucky shot from Ippolito's Steyr AUG passes through plaster, ricochets, and pierces through one of the female RPK wielding soldier's crotch, causing her to yell in pain and fire haphazardly in Ippolitio's general direction.

" _ZÉ DO CAIXÃO, ZUMBI, E LAMPIÃO!"_

The other soldiers flee toward the door and burst through, as Ippolito peers once again around the doorframe, spotting the female RPK wielding soldier panting heavily in pain, resting her back against the wall. He quickly aims down his telescope sights and fires two shots into her upper chest, causing her to drop the RPK, stagger, and fall forward like dead weight. Meanwhile, at the same time, the remaining two RPK gunners and the AKM wielding man find themselves in a dining hall, a few tables broken, two of their own dead by the bar counter, and the scent of urine, blood, and gunpowder in the air.

From behind the counter, Revy yells with her own soundtrack "HELLO TRENCHTOWN YOU FUCKS!" She leaps onto the bar counter and runs sideways across the bar counter, away from the three soldiers, firing her two Cutlasses.

" _RATAMAHA-ATTATATA HELLO! RATAMAHA-ATTATATA HELLO!"_

One of the bullets strikes the male RPK gunner in the left shoulder, another in the female soldier's RPK's trigger, taking her right index finger with it, while a few sail inaccurately to the right. The female soldier drops her RPK and reaches for a CZ-75 in her side holster, as the other two open fire at Revy. Revy quickly thrusts herself back into cover as a few bullets barely zip over her head, taking a few strands of hair with them. "Fuck that was dumb luck over there. Well, you two want to fucking do something?!" Revy yells as Ngoc and Ulagammal nod to each other.

" _VAMO DETON ESSA PORRA! EH?! PORRA!"_

A shot from Ngoc's Mossberg sends the AKM wielding soldier backwards, him standing on his right leg as he falls toward the dining table behind him, crashing through it. Revy and Ulagammal vault over the bar as Revy rejoins the action, Ulagammal aiming her Colt 1903 Hammerless with one hand. The two each pick a dining table to leap onto as a springboard into the middle of the dining hall. The RPK wielding man bleeding from his left shoulder opens fire on Ngoc, who ducks and falls completely on her back, as bullets fill the bar, one gashing her slightly raised right kneecap, causing her to groan. The RPK wielding man and the fingerless woman holding her CZ-75 in her unharmed left hand turn their attention on Revy and Ulagammal, whom have met at the middle. The two then, without a word, run off in opposite directions, firing at the two closely clustered soldiers while they move.

Three shots pepper the RPK wielding man, one in the left elbow, another in his left thigh, and a third right into his upper chest, cutting through the carotid artery. He loses control of his feet and tumbles diagonally backwards and to the left, landing on his shoulder and beginning to lose consciousness as blood pools out. Two shots strike the female soldier in her gut, causing her to quickly fall to the ground in pain. She turns to have her back face Ulagammal as she keeps her gut off the ground with her elbows, immediately receiving a shot to her left ribs. Groaning in pain, she carefully reaches for a grenade in a pouch attached to her beige belt and pulls it out of the pouch, waiting.

Enjoying a silent moment in the music, Revy yells "Fucker with the machine gun is dying, how's it on your end, meth head?!" Ulagammal yawns and yells back "Sadly, just like you, she is still breathing bullshit!"

"Oh yeah? I'll feed you some bullshit!" Revy yells, walking toward the AKM wielding soldier's dead corpse, the corpse in between a broken dining table. She picks the AKM up and walks toward Ulagammal, as Ngoc yells "We done?!" Revy removes the magazine, sees that it is still surprisingly mostly full, and says, still staring at the magazine "Probably still a bunch trying their luck through the front door. Desperate stupid fucks planning on collecting some dipshit medal for their backstabbing politician in dress greens. I'm ready to get my fill." She cracks a sadistic smirk and reinserts the magazine into the AKM, as Ulagammal casually walks toward Revy asks "Should I put her out or do you want to watch?"

Revy smirks at Ulagammal and mutters under breath "Another one that likes to play with her food." The last remaining Vietnamese soldier turns onto her back and yells "Tôi chưa kết thúc (I'm not finished yet)!" She raises an M26 grenade in the air with her left hand, about to throw it, the spoon falling through her grip. Ulagammal immediately turns around and fires a shot from her pistol, striking the female soldier in the left armpit. As the grenade falls out of the soldier's hand, Ulagammal immediately leaps face first away from the grenade, as Revy ducks down and tries to turn around.

Shrapnel rips the soldier apart and flies harmlessly over Ulagammal, the latter laying prone on the floor. A shard of shrapnel strikes Revy's AKM in the buttstock, sending wooden splits barely past and around Revy's ear as she flinches. The wooden floor starts to cave in as the music rapidly accelerates its increasing rhythm and volume. Wooden tables start getting sucked into a vortex as a mob of nine Vietnamese soldiers burst through the front door of the ground floor. The mob of nine, six men and three women, all holding a mix of either an AKM, an SKS-45, or an RPK, run several steps inside the abandoned restaurant when they notice wood and bloodied meat raining on and around the shattered chandelier, followed by dining tables.

" _HELLO UPTOWN!"_

The entirety of the second floor dining hall rapidly caves in, as if a black hole materialized from the blast, dragging Revy and Ulagammal into it as Ngoc hurriedly and awkwardly vaults back behind the bar.

" _HELLO MIDTOWN!"_

Ulagammal flails around as the urine stains on the ground floor carpet become more pronounced, while Revy, taking a plane of wooden floor along for the ride, aims down at the clustered group of nine soldiers and fires in mid air. One bullet strikes a male SKS-45 wielding soldier in his chest, passes through his left lung and the back, and lodges itself inside a male RPK wielding soldier's aorta, the burning hot shell casing bouncing off Revy's nose. Another bullet strikes a female AKM wielding soldier in her right thigh. Revy could only get a third shot off, the bullet passing barely under the legs of a male AKM wielding soldier, before she and Ulagammal land hard against the wooden floor, Revy landing right behind the shattered chandelier, the plane of wood protecting her from broken glass. The two wounded male soldiers lose their footing and fall down, bleeding out, while the wounded female soldier leans against a SKS-45 wielding male soldier, in shock.

" _HELLO DOWNTOWN!"_

As the other six process what happened, and as three of the soldiers begin to raise their guns at Revy, and as more dining tables and the corpse of the male Vietnamese soldier shot by Ngoc rains down, the ground itself begins to cave in under the weight.

" _HELLO TRENCHTOWN!"_

The ground floor itself collapses, revealing a supply closet with several overturn metal shelves and a few large rats that called the place their home. The rats quickly scurry as the supply closet is filled with wood, glass, dead meat, Ulagammal, Revy, and seven angry soldiers still able to shoot.

" _HELLO!"_

Revy and Ulagammal descend on the remaining seven with psychotic smiles and cannibalistic lust. Revy switches the AKM to full-auto and adds more blood to the current odor cocktail of gunpowder and rat shit, gunning down two female soldiers and four male soldiers, while Ulagammal grabs a jagged shard of chandelier glass, the shard cutting into her hand as she grasps it, and pounces on the one female soldier left unscathed, violently slashing and stabbing from behind at the soldier's right ear, head, and neck. She completely slashes through her ear horizontally before digging into the right side of her neck, clawing the shard up to stretching the hole and push more blood out. As she works on her prey, another female soldier, SKS-45 in her hand, bleeding from her right thigh and her gut, climbs to her knees and prepares to aim at Revy, oblivious to Ulagammal hacking the other soldier apart. Revy quickly adjusts her AKM and pulls the trigger, only to learn that the bullets ran dry.

As the barrel of the SKS-45 aims down on Revy's head, a few bullets rain from above, one of the bullets striking the soldier in her right shoulder. Ulagammal hears the shots, pulls the shard of glass out of the dead soldier's neck, and grabs the barrel of the SKS-45 with her left hand. She yanks the barrel to the right and crosses her right hand over her left, driving the shard into the soldier's right eye. As the soldier screeches, Ulagammal continues to stab at her eye, drives the shard deep in her socket, and pushes her away as the soldier faints from rapid blood loss, collapsing on the debris ridden ground, seconds from death.

Revy and Ulagammal pant heavily and smile at each other, Ulagammal's clothes stained in blood, Revy's clothes peppered in sawdust. Ulagammal tosses the glass shard away, blood from her hand dripping onto the ground, and awkwardly walks over to Revy, carefully stepping around broken wood and corpses. As Revy tosses the AKM to the side, Ulagammal grabs Revy's left hand with her left hand and lifts her to her feet. Revy nods, almost silently saying thanks, and then hears Rock yell from above "You two alright?!"

Revy looks up and sees Rock's blood and brain matter coated head peering through the massive hole in the roof. She asks "Was that you shooting?" Rock extends his arms out and says "Center mass, like you taught me. I think." Revy slightly laughs and yells "You have really, really, shitty aim!"

Back in the manager's office, Hiếu Văn Phạm, his hands behind his head, kneels by the body of Trung, a pale, shocked look on his face. He is surrounded by Rock, Ngoc, and Dutch, the latter three all holding their respective guns. Outside, by the bar, Ulagammal leans down the hole and whistles at the sight, while Revy coolly eyes Tuyết as the latter exits through a doorway, followed by Marty and Nicky. Nicky turns his hands upside down and points them at the hole, confused, as Marty says "Woah, some fucking show I missed." Revy coldly glares at the three and nods her head toward the manager's office, saying "The dipshit is inside."

Marty nods and cracks a wry smile, and then takes the lead, skipping through the doorway into the manager's office, stepping over the corpse of the soldier that Ulagammal shot to death with her MAC10. He waves his arms around like 'jazz hands' as he high steps into the manager's office, and then pauses in his tracks as he notices Rock's war face. Laughing nervously, he blurts out "Hey Rock, a real man eats his lady friend every day of the month, ey?" As a few snickers crack out, Dutch blankly says "I was looking forward to lunch."

Marty coolly smirks and snickers at Dutch, before turning to face the general with a highly exaggerated smile on his face, yelling "HEY! Hiếu! Hiếuy boy! It's been so long! A few days! You never called! You never wrote, I mean, you fuckers ain't so third world that you don't got paper!"

General Phạm glares coldly at Marty and says "It seems reports of your death have…" He turns to Rock and continues "...been exaggerated." Marty bursts into laughter and says "Well I'm a very exaggerated motherfucker! So it only fits that I die the same." Phạm bites his lip, looks down on the floor, and then raises his eyes up to meet with Rock's, the latter enjoying his position of power. The general takes a deep breath and propositions "There has been more lies told between us then we first admitted. I recall you having a keen interest in the Eastern Europeans we held captive…Windmill. Well, I had a Georgian business associate of mine fabricate the call. The Eastern Europeans are still with us."

Rock cracks a wide smile, leans to the general's level, and speaks as Ngoc aims her shotgun at the captive "…there is no Windmill. And I am not the boss. Just a former salaryman with nothing to lose and a very good Norman Stansfield impersonation." The general sighs and asks "So, you knew the call was nonsense and you still went ahead? Was everything just a stalling tactic to create an ideal situation?" Dutch yawns and says "Bingo." The general turns to Dutch and asks "Are you the boss?" Dutch adjusts his sunglasses and diplomatically says "Right now, Mr. Zappala is the boss, and I am the manager of a group of independent contractors, two of which you tried to shut up." Phạm nods to himself and turns to Rock, saying "Mr. Zappala mentioned of a Japanese man amongst your group. Former salaryman, described as very green. I assumed that man was your boat's tech. Fooled me well."

Marty snaps his fingers and walks back and forth, saying "Ah, so we are talking about foolery now, ey? How about you fooling…my people…poisoning MY people against me! Here, let me impart you some fucking advice. Might not be much of use given your current situation but…hey, you fuckers believe in reincarnation right? Am I right? Ngoc? Tuyết?" Tuyết heaves a sigh and says "No." Marty laughs and says "Well, then no shit off my asshairs. Listen here, my backstabbing friend. When you start playing with some Machiavelli, Art of War, spreading dysentery in group shit…you are only as good as…as…fuck what's the word…" He starts snapping his fingers as if it helps to jog his memory "well…the point is…I suck at these fucking moments!" Everyone but the general starts laughing as the general swallows his saliva and mutters to himself. Calming down, Marty says "Okay, I got it. The point I'm trying to say…make, is that if you think you got all the strings on your fingers, remember that you don't got eyes in the back of your head. See, that's a good one. Now, what do we do with your sorry fucking ass?"

"I still have the Eastern Europeans!" Phạm yells out, playing one more hand. Rock smirks and says "Mmm, I think not, my friend. I think not." "What? You think what?" the general interjects, confused. Dutch smirks as well and says "I think you don't have a knife-proof back."

Colonel Vinh Thị Cao walks through the doorway opposite the one Marty and company stepped through. She places her hands on her thighs, turns to the general, and slightly bows, smiling in a mocking manner, saying "Chào bạn, bệ hạ (Welcome, your grace)." General Phạm rises like a man possessed and yells "Bạn đụ kẻ phản bội lồn (You fucking traitor cunt)!" Rock quickly reacts as a man possessed and yells with a furious look on his face "DON'T GET OFF YOUR KNEES IN MY PRESENCE EVER AGAIN OR HELP ME BUDDHA I WILL PUT TWO BULLETS IN YOUR GUT AND WATCH SHIT POUR OUT OF YOUR INTESTINES!" He pauses a moment to glance at his boss Dutch and his client Marty, savors a quick glance of the fleeting moment of shock in their eyes, and turns back to the general, the latter frozen in body but indignant in spirit. After a pause to formulate what he wants to say, Rock yells "I'VE SPEWED A LOT OF BULLSHIT IN MY TIME IN ROANAPUR AND MY YEARS IN JAPAN, BUT I SWEAR ON THE SKILL OF MY RIGHT HAND THAT THAT IS SOMETHING YOU CAN ATTEST TO!"

At this point, Revy slowly, almost stealthy, wanders into the manager's office, standing behind Ippolito. She looks in curiosity as to what the fuss is about.

The general grinds his teeth and kneels at the sight of Rock's M9, and then turns his attention to Vinh Cao. Puffing his cheeks in restrained anger, he asks "Bao nhiêu tiền (How much money)?" Vinh quickly turns to Marty and, as a show of cooperation, says "He is asking me how much I was bought for you." Marty nods and motions with his right hand for Cao to continue. Colonel Vinh Cao says "Your stake, plus 5% of the stake from the guy that was crushed by the garbage."

"You sent your own people to die. Martin, is this the type of person you want to work with?" Hiếu Văn Phạm asks, attempting to find a way out. Vinh Cao counters and says "Not really my people. If you bothered to notice, most of the people we brought here were those loyal to you or the ones that I had my doubts on them keeping quiet once this operation is over. Being that I am next to take your position, I wished to sort out the people I can't trust in advance."

General Phạm's lips curl as he asks "And you think that these snakes will keep their word? You think that a Canadian outsider like Martin wouldn't toss you aside at the earliest convenience, you naïve idiot?! And you! Windmill or whoever your name is! All of you 'independent contractors'! Martin Zappala personally wanted you all dead! Yes, YES! He did! All of you! Two of you at the house after Trung's kidnapping and the other two later! It was my idea but he endorsed it! He called me a genius for it! He said that when this is all over, all of you will be in caskets! I swear this on my eyes!"

Marty laughs, a tinge of nervousness in his laughter, which Dutch notices. Marty shakes his head and says "You're just bullshitting for oxygen, and it ain't working." Colonel Vinh Cao takes a step toward Phạm and says "It's not working, Senior Colonel." Marty nods in agreement for several seconds, before blurting "What?" "What what?" Vinh Cao asks. "What you said just now?" Marty asks, as Revy, Rock, Dutch, Ngoc, and Tuyết stare at the two going back and forth. "Uh, Senior Colonel?" Vinh Cao asks, unsure of what Marty wants. Marty extends his right arm out, indignant, his palm open, and points his arm at Hiếu Văn Phạm and yells "I thought this fuck was a Brigadier General!" Vinh Cao shakes her head and says "Such a rank doesn't exist in the Vietnamese Army. Probably some bullshit he spun to make himself look better." "Motherfucker!" Marty yells out. He turns to Senior Colonel Hiếu Văn Phạm and says "You stab me in the back, you fuck with my people, but this? This shit? This is the worst. I thought I was working with a fucking Patton here. This is like finding out that Santa ain't real!"

"Enough!" Hiếu Văn Phạm yells out. Finding that he has everyone's attention, he hurriedly says "You cannot kill me! I am a serious and very connected officer and politician. If you kill me Hanoi will kill you, all of you, and all of your families! You will be hunted down until the day each and every one of you will die!"

Rock starts pacing back and forth in front of Hiếu Văn Phạm and says "Actually, we don't want to kill you. Well, okay, maybe not true, I really would like to put a bullet in your skull now and I think my colleague over there wouldn't mind doing the same, right?" He nods at Revy, who replies with a bemused smile "Sure, I got a special place in hell that I stuff in all the little pigs that fuck with me." Rock turns to Dutch and says "And you, boss?" Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "Ain't hurting for ammo these days." Rock turns back to Hiếu Văn Phạm and says "See, there. However, as much as we want to kill you, we are being paid quite handsomely by our client not to do that. Why? The floor is yours, Martin."

Hiếu Văn Phạm turns his attention to Marty, the latter saying "Here is what has happened, shitstain. You notice Trung's rigor mortis setting in? The shit on Windmill's face here? Those three Eastern European's you had with Vinh Cao? Well, tell me Vinh, what happened with them?" Vinh Cao calmly says "I let them go with a serious yacht full of serious people." "And what about some Lotion fuck that was with them?" Marty almost rhetorically asks. Vinh Cao turns to Hiếu Văn Phạm and says "He wasn't part of the deal, so I had my people give him a new hole to see the world through." Marty claps slowly and says "And, my friend, this is where you come in…Senior Colonel Hiếu Văn Phạm. That, whatever the fuck he was, that Vinh Cao had clipped, he was some fixer that Chù Thanh Hoàng hired to act as a go-between with him and the Slavs. He is resting in a convenient place. Trung Thanh Hoàng is resting here. A shit load of Viet army fucks are decaying right now. I think, personally, that a bunch of mercs that Chù Thanh Hoàng hired through the proxy Lotian, Lation, whatever, they went rogue when the shit turned up at Vibol's safe house. You know what, don't say the mercs were Slavs. Make them Chinese, I think Hanoi will like that detail more. Anyway, they came here to do a hostage ransom shit, admitted they were hired by Chù Thanh Hoàng to do both the raid on Van Thirith's dockyard and the rescue attempt on Trung. And then when some of Van Thirith's remnants, I think you could spin Thongvan and his people as some associates of the guy, when they realized that paper boy was getting his revenge and was probably going to later bust his brother out, when Thongvan's people lit up the safe house to 'get payback for Van Thirith', the so called 'Chinese' mercs said 'Fuck it, paper boy ain't paying us enough, we need some big bucks'. And so then they started this hostage ransom shit with you, cause the grapevine knows you and the police in this part of Vietnam were looking like crazy for Trung and the mercs in order to get a payday and feathers in caps, oh I'm sorry, to bring justice and peace and all that good shit. But, but but but, you are a good Senior Colonel. You don't negotiate with Chinese terrorists, trust me use that line, Hanoi will eat it up. So, you come in, with no cash and a shit load of men, and tried to take the mercs down, but these people are like Chinese Special Forces and they had the place booby trapped and shit, and all your people went down, Trung got shot somewhere during this, you can say the Chinese did it, that fixer got shot by them, and they escaped using one of your vans. Yes, bingo. You and Vinh Cao were held 'hostage' yourselves, and they escape on one of the vans you came on. You, my fuck, got kneecapped during this all, and out of loyalty and duty to her senior commander, Vinh Cao delays sending in the dragnet on the 'Chinese' to get you to the hospital. Hanoi slaps a medal on you, maybe a bullshit fake promotion, and then you fucking better retire. You take whatever pension or shit you got, take your bonus and your new medal, and you go to that retirement villa you got lined up in Malaysia, take your entire family with you, and never fucking come back here again. You got that?!"

"And if I refuse?" Hiếu Văn Phạm asks, defiantly, almost steaming with rage. With a fake surprised look, Marty says "Oh. Oh! If you refuse? If you refuse…if you refuse, listen closely now. It's what, almost 4:30 now? January 10th, the eighth was a Thursday so today is Saturday. Usually around this time, according to Vinh Cao here, your wife is picking your younger daughter up from ballet classes. Teenager, now has her hair in a ponytail, goes to the high school across from some big carpet emporium? It's Saturday so I think black pudding is for dinner."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Hiếu Văn Phạm yells out, as his normally collected façade crumbles once again. Turning his back to the senior colonel, Martin Zappala says "Skip a single detail from what I said, and I'll wipe the Phạms off the face of the map. And I don't give a shit what Hanoi does, I'll get to your family before Hanoi gets to me. You better fucking believe that."

All the color in Phạm's face flees in a rout. He kneels, defeated, silent. Marty takes it as a promise of cooperation. Satisfied in the victory, he says "Remember, we got to sell this. WE…got to sell this story, which means you need to get ruffed up a bit. It won't look right otherwise, given that Vinh Cao came inside last. Now, 'Windmill', since this was your idea, and I kinda got some tension here, some sign that you really want to give this 'senior colonel' a piece of 'the Rock', so, I let you have the honors. Kneecap the cocksucker."

Senior colonel Phạm stares at Rock with a blank look on his face, bracing himself, resigning to his fate. Rock raises his M9 to Phạm, a bemused look on his face. It unnerves Revy and Dutch, the latter muttering "What the hell happened?" Looking down at Phạm, Rock lowers his pistol and says "It is funny, really. I'm going to remove the mask I was wearing before and speak plainly. Yeah." He pauses for a second as Marty and Vinh Cao stare at Rock in confusion. Ignoring them, Rock continues "You remind me of someone. The way you talk, your choice of words. Honestly its more because of how much this situation we are in right now, me with a pistol in hand, you on your knees, that reminds me of a job we worked for him. We were hired, well…I specifically was assigned the job of pulling a few unwanted elements out of the city I live in without creating too much of a fuss. Suffice to say, this wasn't the first time I pulled together a few smoke bombs and some mirrors for a magic show. To tell you the truth…" Rock cracks a wry smile and grips tightly on his M9, as Dutch stares on, growing more concerned.

"To tell you the truth, I created a scheme that achieved the goal of getting the unwanted elements out, but I set it up in such a way that, by incredible luck, most of the people involved came out alive. It was my attempt to show him up, really. To prove it could be done." Rock trails off, almost out of instinct reaching into his left pocket. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and then decides to put it back in, saying "Later. Regardless, I pulled it off. Both of the key individuals came out alive, though one was left wheelchair bound, nothing could have been helped about that. I thought I earned their gratitude. I instead earned a congratulation that I finally fit in my new home, and a few broken ribs in my chest, courtesy of some kind of fake bullet. I thought I changed the status quo, I thought I changed Roanapur."

Smiling, with a touch of sadness behind the smile, he continues "The client proceeded to call me on my bullshit and pay me a nice bonus. It is funny, really. I bet on the lives of others. I won so well that I lost everything." His smile growing more and more sadistic, Rock raises the M9 at Phạm as Marty asks with a look of worry "What the hell are you talking about?"

Revy raises and eyebrow as Dutch turns to her and says "You're around him more than me, what the hell is he trying to pull?" Revy shakes her head and stares dumbfounded at Rock, who, from her POV, looks like an idiot on a stage trying to make a speech about nothing.

Aiming his pistol at the senior colonel, Rock says "Someone, somewhere on this planet, stole my victory. They stole my thunder. I was going to win on two counts, win big, and win in style, and like a thief in the night, they stole my win away. I…was undermined."

His aim shifts from Phạm's left knee to right above his groin. Smiling sadistically, Rock steadies his hand, takes several steps forward to close the distance, and says "Blanks, rubber bullets, silver bullets. This one is made of simple lead." Phạm looks on in fear, slow to react, or even move. Realizing what he is doing, Revy yells "Rock don't be fucking stup…"

*BANG*

The bullet lodges itself in the bottom of Phạm's large intestine, right above his penis. It drills deep but fails to penetrate through the back. Blood sprays onto Rock's shoes as he slowly falls backward, grasping onto his wound with both hands, in shock, his knees bending. Marty places both hands on his head in complete shock and boiling anger as Ngoc and Ippolito aim their weapons at Rock. Vinh Cao glares at Rock in confusion while Tuyết cracks a bemused smirk. Revy, caught midsentence, simply blinks, as Dutch hurriedly walks to Rock and grabs his right wrist, yelling "What the hell are you doing?!"

"You stupid fuck!" Marty yells out as Dutch pulls Rock's arm behind his back and disarms him. Vinh Cao tends to Phạm, the latter in shock, as Rock yells "You want to make this believable?! No one shoots themselves in the gut! He'll live!" "AND YOU EVER HEARD OF INFECTIONS, EMPEROR BRAINLESSJIMA?! PEOPLE DIE FROM THAT SHIT!" Marty yells out, boiling in rage. Indignant, Rock yells "All the more reason why you, Colonel Cao, should move fast and get us into the van! I'll keep Phạm up while someone could hold Cao 'hostage'!"

"I make the decisions here!" Dutch yells out, taking control of the situation "Ippolito! You carry Phạm! Revy! You pretend to hold Cao hostage! Rock! You stay as far out of my fucking sight for both of our good!"

Exiting the motel/restaurant through the front, Revy keeps her Cutlass pressed against Cao's neck, the latter with her hands raised as two snipers aim their rifles at Revy and the others. Ippolito carries Pham on his right shoulder as Dutch aims his revolver at Phạm's head. Solid feces seem to poke out of his gut, filling the air around him with a strong, horrible stench. They are then followed by Marty, Ulagammal, Ngoc, Tuyết, and lastly Rock. Vinh Cao yells out "Mạc! Nhận các van (Get the van)! Tạ! Radio cho xe cứu thương (Radio for an ambulance)!" The female sniper drops her rifle and runs back to a van, jumping into the driver seat, while the male sniper reaches for a PRC-77 portable radio. The female driver quickly drives the UAZ-452 van closer to the road and the group as Ippolito lets the senior colonel fall off his shoulder and onto the grass, back first. Cao says "You can stop," and waits for Revy to slowly holster her Cutlass. She then runs to Phạm and presses on his wound, her hands becoming stained in a mix of blood and shit.

As the female sniper runs to assist Cao, Tuyết jumps into the driver seat, with Ippolito taking the front side passenger seat. The rest funnel into the back of the van, the back having two black leather benches on opposite sides. Ngoc takes the spot right behind Tuyết's seat, followed by Rock and then Revy. Marty takes the spot behind Ippolito's seat, followed by Dutch and then Ulagammal. Ulagammal pulls the van doors shut as Tuyết slams on the gas and takes a turn right onto a sparse highway, known as QL-80.

As the group drive southwest bound toward the water, Rock mutters, smiling, cupping his hands, looking at the floor "Benny is going to pick us up with the Lagoon, everything else is elementary." "YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT FUCK!" Marty yells out, still boiling with rage. Thrashing his hands around, having a conniption, he yells "HE FUCKED ME WORSE THEN I DID! WHAT WAS YOUR FUCKING DEAL WITH HIM?! I SAID SHOOT HIM IN THE FUCKING COCKSUCKING KNEE, YOU SHOOT HIM IN THE KNEE! NOT GO OFF ON SOME SHIT THAT I DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT HAPPENED ON SOME FUCKING JOB OR WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WERE RAMBLING ON! IF THAT TWAT CROAKS I'M FUCKED OUT OF MILLIONS OF DOLLARS YOU STUPID JAP SHIT! FUCK!"

Rock looks up toward Marty and says almost indifferently "Just because I saw Vinh Cao as the missing link doesn't mean I automatically trusted her. It's hard to die from an open gut if help comes quick enough. This way, even if Vinh Cao wanted to double cross us, she had to focus on Hiếu Văn Phạm's bleeding. Would give us time to escape."

Calming down enough to stop flailing his arms, Marty angrily asks "And how the fuck you know that the bullet won't kill him? Tell me what fucking medical university you graduated from, dickfuck! He had fucking turds crawling out of his guts, do you think human beings are find with turds rubbing on major organs?! Who the fuck told you this was a good idea?!" Rock shrugs his shoulders and turns to Revy, the latter trying not to be noticed. He says "Revy, you said a bullet to the gut takes several hours to kill. You said you knew from experience." Marty and Dutch turn to Revy, Dutch himself repressing a torrent of rage. Revy slightly grimaces and says "Yeah, usually. I don't know, bullet wounds vary. From the shit I been in, I'd say four, maybe five hours is how long it takes to bleed out from that entry. It all depends on the person and shit. For the record, Dutch, I had no idea he was going to pull this shit. He asked a question, I told him an answer."

"See?" Rock motions his right hand at Revy, while staring at Marty. He doesn't notice Dutch practically shaking in anger. Marty himself still furious, he yells "Usually? Fucking usually?! If that twat bites it I'm going to blame a few certain motherfuckers in this car, fucking believe that! And don't even think about asking for the pay wired now! Until senior colonel fuckface stabilizes in the hospital I'm not wiring you dick! Crazy fuck here thinks it's funny to play slots with valuable people's lives!"

Rock cracks a bemused smile and says "Wouldn't be the first time I did that." At his limit Dutch stands up, his head kneeling forward as the van roof is too short. He yells "I gave you a lot of leeway and a lot of rope with this last job! Never again! Everything was so fine until you suddenly transformed into a retard and FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!" Ulagammal nudges away from Dutch as Ngoc glares in apprehension. Ippolito turns around to make sure everything is okay, as Marty slightly opens his mouth and nudges away. Revy forces herself to stare straight into nothing. She has enough experience when Dutch is angry, genuinely, no rules angry, to know better than to get involved.

Rock, too absorbed in his victory to take Dutch as seriously as he should, says "I don't see what the problem is. My plan worked fine. Hiếu Văn Phạm will probably be fine." "Probably?" Dutch hovers on that word. His eyebrows twitch. He curls his right hand into a fist and reaches for Rock's chin with his left hand, grabbing it, his entire hand engulfing Rock's face from under his chin to his eyes. Dutch squeezes tightly, almost ready to crush Rock's chin in his giant hand. He yells "PROBABLY?! MOTHERFUCKER YOU COST ME MONEY!" He slides his left hand down to Rock's neck, pulls his head toward him, and drives his right fist into Rock's nose, breaking it.

Marty quickly turns to Ippolito and says "Want to put money on this?" Ippolito replies "I know who you picking so I'm going to need 75 to 1 odds for this." Dutch drives his right fist in Rock's face again, breaking his nose in multiple places, yelling "THIRTY ONE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY FUCKING DOLLARS! YOU PISSED THAT ALL AWAY ON ACCOUNT OF YOUR EMOTIONAL BULLSHIT!" He starts wailing at Rock's cheeks, causing them to swell up. "ALL THAT FUCKING MONEY GONE! ALL THAT HARD WORK! THE BUNKER! BURNING THE FUCKER! SETTING UP THE AMBUSH! ALL THAT PISSED AWAY OVER SOME END ZONE CELEBRATION! YOU SENTIMENTAL PUNK MOTHERFUCKER!"

As Dutch continues to wail away on Rock, Revy tensely and unsurely asks "Boss?" He pauses from giving Rock the beating of his life by coldly yelling "What?!" Grimacing, and carefully choosing her words, Revy says "We…don't know if Hiếu Văn Phạm is going to take a dirt nap or shit. We will find out in a couple of days, tops." Dutch heaves a deep sigh and yells "I know, this is nothing! This is…" he strikes Rock's face again "is for getting into one of his philosophical…" once more "fucking pontifications while on the…" once more "fucking job!" He gives Rock one last punch and lets go, letting Rock crumble onto the van floor, dazed, his face looking like he went 15 rounds with Sonny Liston. His left eye socket swells into a reddish purple hue as his nostrils bleed steadily and as he wonders how he didn't lose any teeth.

Dutch returns to his seat and stews in silence. Revy grimaces slightly, occasionally stealing glances at Rock's face. As Rock hazily looks at the roof of the van, feeling the bumps along the highway, he watches Ulagammal's head tower over him like God playing a joke. She says "You don't look too good." After a few seconds, she moves her head back to a more comfortable position, staring at Rock throughout the ride.

Rock cracks a weak, beaten smile. His entire face aches. He tries to open his mouth, and then widens his smile, relieved to know that his jaw is not broken. Rock trails his thoughts away to Balalaika putting a gun to his head in a Tokyo parking lot, to Fabiola firing a fake bullet that left him sidelined with broken ribs, to Luca Cavalcanti carving his chest, to the new Roanapur chief of police driving him and Revy. To thoughts of old Tokyo, and the South China Sea, and the Gulf of Thailand, and his dreams, and his nightmares. To Roanapur. To the torpedo boat.

His thoughts drift to his meeting with Chang by the piers. To him tossing the duffel bag full of American $20 notes as payment for his work in getting Roberta out of Roanapur. To the slight, salty breeze, the harsh stench of Chang's cigarettes, the rough feel of the wooden ledge he and Rock leaned against.

" _But if you want to understand the difference between good and evil…you will have to think long and hard about it, Rock."_

Rock places his hands on his chests, sticking them under his black and white plaid dress shirt. He rubs his finger tips against the medical tape wrapped around his abdomen. Nodding at no one in particular, he blurts out, quietly enough that only he himself could hear it, albeit barely.

"I finally won."


	12. The Long Arm Of The Thieves In Law

Steel elevator doors open wide as four Vietnamese cops step out, dressed in light green uniforms and red and yellow striped shoulder badges of the Cần Thơ police department, three middle aged men with short black hair and one young woman with long black hair, along with a middle-aged Vietnamese man sporting receding black hair and a five 0'clock shadow, dressed in the dark green uniform of the Tổng Cục Tình Báo. The four police officers are carrying Tokarev automatic pistols and the secret police agent is wielding an Uzi submachine gun. They march through a corporate office floor with a purpose, the secret police agent commanding in a harsh voice at a young female Vietnamese secretary sitting by her reception "Mở cửa (Open the door). Công việc của cảnh sát (The affairs of the police)."

The receptionist glares fearfully at the five and presses a button, the button summoning a buzzing sound. One of the male cops opens the glass door as the five funnel inside. A bronze plaque on one of the walls says 'Nhật Báo Đông Dương (Indochina Daily)'. Underneath that is another bronze plaque that says 'Văn Phòng Điều Hành (Executive Offices).'

The five march through a long hallway flanked by doors as men and women in formal business attire move out of their way. The five eventually reach an office at the far end that says 'Chù Thanh Hoàng, Chủ Tịch Công Ty (Company Chairman), Tổng Biên Tập (Editor in Chief).' The secret police agent proceeds to bang on the door violently, yelling "Hoàng Thanh Chù! Điều này cảnh sát (This is the police)! Chúng tôi có một bảo đảm (We have a warrant)!"

*BANG*

"Đụ (fuck)!" the secret police agent curses as one of the male cops drives his shoulder into the door, loosening the hinges, following that with another ram, knocking the door open. He quickly ducks to the ground as the secret police agent, one of the male cops, and the female cop, funnel into the room, aiming their guns down their sights. They circle the mahogany office methodically, with the female cop checking the closed window. Finally, the secret police agent tends to Chù Thanh Hoàng, a hole in the top of his head that is spurting blood and tissue out like a small fountain. Under his chin, streams of blood dirty his sky blue buttoned dress shirt. His head is slumped back in his seat, causing blood to drip on the floor, and a Makarov pistol lies by one of the chair's legs. The secret police agent checks his pulse almost out of formality and then announces the obvious "Gửi các điều tra viên (Send the coroner)."

A knock reverberates on the door, followed by another. Tuyết, dressed in a grey cotton sweater and black track pants, wearing white socks on brown slippers, opens the door. She is holding a Makarov pistol in her right hand, hiding the pistol behind her back. She nods at the guest by the door and says "Hello."

"Hello," Dutch answers, dressed in a sky blue zippered sweatshirt and dark blue jeans, wearing brown boots. He adjust his sunglasses and says "Marty sent me here to speak to you." Tuyết cracks a pained smile and asks "You are here to kill me?" Dutch raises and eyebrow and asks "No, why you asking?" She studies Dutch's face and says "Just curious." Dutch glares at Tuyết and says "Marty is not that patient enough to wait three days when he could have shot you in the bunker or on my boat." Tuyết chuckles slightly and says "Yes, that is true." Dutch continues "And besides, we are just a courier group that occasionally brushes against the law to get by. We don't do contract killings."

Tuyết opens the door fully and lets Dutch inside her house. The first thing Dutch sees is a brown leather sofa facing a large television incased in a mahogany wooden shelf, the shelf branching left and right into various levels, holding assorted pottery, what appears to be four Easter Island head models, and a fossilized crab the size of a soccer ball. The walls are painted mint green and adorned with bookshelves packed with VHS tapes and assorted books, a few black and white photographs of a Vietnamese family framed and hanging from the walls, and a large opened book full of collected coins from around the world.

Tuyết closes the door and switches back on the safety on her Makarov. She lifts her right pant sleeve up, revealing an ankle holster, and straps the pistol into the holster. As she closes the door and locks it on three separate locks, Tuyết asks "So what was the whole raid against Van Thirith then?" Dutch walks around the room, scanning it, and says, without turning around "It was an…aberration. A fifty thousand dollar aberration." Tuyết nods and says "Okay I get it. So, since you are not here to shoot me, what is it that Martin Zappala wants to tell me that he couldn't go to me himself."

Dutch turns to Tuyết and says "Marty is being watched by my people to make sure he finishes the wire transfer. I don't know what Ippolito and Vitelli are doing but Ngoc is waiting on a shipment from Vancouver." Tuyết leans against her sofa, almost sitting on the top edge of it, and asks "So this means that Hiếu Văn Phạm survived?" Dutch nods and says "Yeah, though he is stuck at some hospital in Cần Thơ. Going to be for a month, I heard."

Tuyết laughs slightly and says "Stuck in the same city as the media mogul he tried to frame all this time. Funny." Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "I guess. That's not what I'm here to tell you." Tuyết nods and says "I know. Go on." "Marty is giving you Gessa's position and his share of the recycling racket, minus 3%, which goes to next of kin," Dutch says, turning his attention to Tuyết's coin collection. He starts flipping through pages of pouches with coins as Tuyết asks, surprised "Really? Are you sure you are not here to kill me?" Dutch heaves a slight sigh and says "Yes, Marty wants you to pick two new men, he picks the rest, probably getting them from his boss Viapiano back in Roanapur. He also wants to know if you heard anything about the older guy who was with you in the bunker. The one who ran away."

Tuyết shakes her head and says "Nothing. He disappeared as far as I know. What does Martin want me to do if I do find him?" Dutch stares at a 50 pyas Burmese coin and says "Ask him that, I don't know anything about that." Tuyết nods solemnly and resigns to silence.

After several awkward seconds, Dutch says "Looks like both you and my employee Rock got out lucky." Tuyết smirks to herself and says "The one who betrayed her boss once is first to blame if the victim gets so much as a nose bleed, and being spied on by the people Martin chooses is not something I particularly look forward to, but yes, I did get off lucky."

The two return to awkward silence as Dutch continues to tour through Tuyết's coins. After another break, Tuyết says "Ngoc told me you are ex-military." Dutch closes the book of coins and turns around, saying "Yes. U.S. Marine Corp, served by the Laotian/Vietnamese border. It's a very long and uncomfortable story." Tuyết heads into her kitchen and pours coffee out of a pot. She then reaches for a steel spoon in a container of sugar and drops three tablespoons of sugar into her coffee. She blows on the steam and says "Okay, I won't pry." Dutch turns his attention to the VHS tapes, most of them Vietnamese dramas, a few documentaries in English and Vietnamese. He pauses, thinks to himself, and then blurts out "I do have a question that has been burning in me for a while."

Tuyết exits the kitchen, coffee mug in her right hand, and takes a cautious sip. She says "Ask." Dutch turns to Tuyết and faces her in the eye, asking "What was it with that plastic wrap and those carpets that Rock and Revy found…in the bathroom of the safe house that Marty had them lie low in after you picked them up following Trung's kidnapping?"

Tuyết freezes momentarily in her tracks, staring at her coffee. She takes another, bolder, sip and says "Hiếu Văn Phạm suggested it, Martin agreed to it, though reluctantly. The general…senior colonel, he found it unlikely that two hired mercenaries with no Kevlar could survive against an entire police force for so long. He probably did not factor in the bullet protecting benefits of a car speeding through greenhouses. If we were to bring them in wounded, they would have probably died by the time we would get to the safe house anyway. To prevent Vibol from having to bleach his entire house, and since they would already be a piece of meat, we were to dump their corpses somewhere and send the secret police in the wrong direction."

Dutch raises his right palm up and says "I agree with logic behind it. However, what was that fight that Rock mentioned, between Revy and Ngoc? What happened there?" Tuyết answers "Ask Revy if you want her side of the story, which you probably already did. Jake Branca mentioned that she and the Japanese man, Rock, were yelling at each other over something. She then proceeded to destroy my car seat. She paid for the damages but acted like a hostile animal to everyone afterwards. Ngoc herself makes Sinophobia her religion, and with Revy being a Chinese-American it only made it much easier to goad her into a fight. Well, they fought, over what I have no idea, Ngoc said Revy attacked because she was drinking coffee with Rock, but that's her side of the story. Regardless, Revy had to be restrained, and she was locked up with Rock until we could…wait for them to calm down."

Dutch nods to himself, turns to the side, and then asks "And if those other mercenaries, led by Thongvan if I remember Ulagammal right, if they didn't attack, given that Revy and Rock were not bleeding to death when they arrived at the safe house, what would have happened to them?" Tuyết takes a large gulp of coffee, slightly burning her tongue and mouth, and coldly says "Then they would have been left, as is."

"As is," Dutch parrots. "As is," Tuyết asserts. Dutch pauses to think, and then turns to Tuyết, saying "Okay, thank you. I got my answer." As he nods to himself once again in satisfaction, Dutch prepares to move to the door. As he takes his second step, Tuyết blurts out "I have some popcorn. If you want to stay, I have a movie we could watch." Dutch turns to Tuyết and says "If it's in Vietnamese I'd understand maybe five words total." Tuyết shakes her head and says "No, it's in English. Nathaniel Gessa kept telling me to rent Spartacus."

Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "Hmm, I guess I can watch Spartacus." Tuyết laughs and says "Actually while I was going to rent it, I saw they just got this other movie available. I heard it has amazing special effects." She walks to a bookshelf and pulls out a VHS tape in its case, the case showing the box art for Independence Day. Dutch squints his eyes at the box art and then says "Oh, is that the one with Will Smith and the guy from Spaceballs? Sure, I've been meaning to watch that one for some time already."

Tuyết smiles and says "Perfect, the popcorn is in cabinet above the sink, and there is a clean bowl next to the cooking oil. Follow the instructions on the back, but put the microwave on for 4:30, it's weaker than the average model." Dutch says "Got it," and heads into the kitchen, as Tuyết turns the TV on and fumbles with a VHS remote.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the couch between them, Dutch reclines into the sofa, letting out a yawn. He holds a glass of water in his left hand and maneuvers it to his right hand, taking a sip. The two watch the opening commercials, with Tuyết reaching into the bowl with her left hand, taking a small handful out. She tosses the popped kernels in one by one, and then says "That is a lot of salt." Dutch takes a glance at Tuyết and says "Did I add too much? Apologies." Tuyết slightly frowns and says "It's alright."

After sitting in silence, watching commercials, Dutch says "Ngoc also told me that you served in the war." Tuyết quickly and blankly says "Wars." Dutch raises an eyebrow and asks "The war with Cambodia?" Tuyết nods and says "Yes. And the war with China." Dutch turns to Tuyết and says "I heard about that war. Seems it hasn't actually ended yet." Tuyết grimaces and says "Nope. Say, I find it really, really funny. Sad, but very funny. The United States, speaking on behalf of all for democracy and liberty and everything else it croons about. NATO, the supposed shield of human rights against the so called tyranny of the Marxist-Leninists. They all got so quickly in bed with China once she spread out her legs. Genocide, starving its people to death by creating outdoor factories in people's backyards and forcing farmers to work on something similar to what Martin is doing in the recycling pit…it all seemed convenient to ignore. I understand, Ho Chi Minh was not a saint, far from it, but saints never won revolutions. Hmph. They all conveniently backed Pol Pot, had they not? The genocidal glasses wearing warlord that wanted to kill everyone with a high school education who wasn't pure Khmer up to ancient times?"

Dutch's ears start to burn as he takes a handful of popcorn and slowly nibbles on them. Tuyết continues, saying "China's yoke got a hold of them all, the west, the land of liars and hypocrites. Pol Pot was slaughtering hundreds of thousands, maybe millions. He was slaughtering so many Vietnamese. He was slaughtering OUR Vietnamese on OUR lands. Of course we would invade and destroy the Khmer Rouge. We deposed them, we liberated them. And because Pol Pot was married to Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai and Hua Guofeng and the rest of Peking parasites, the west and NATO and the World Bank and the UN condemned us all. For stopping a genocidal madman. The irony, the beautiful irony. The naked hypocrisy of west. If not for the Soviet Union, Vietnam would have been destroyed. The monster was putting pickaxes through the skulls of children and we, WE, stopped him, and they, THEY, condemned us to starve. Because they, THEY, wanted to appease the economic giant of China, because liberty and democracy are cheap trinkets to be fairly traded away for a sexy trade surplus. Japan, JAPAN OF ALL NATIONS, they were slamming us for stopping a genocidal madman. But I don't care what the world thinks. There were many things I am not proud of in war, in all the three wars, but there is nothing I feel more pride for then knowing that my Vietnamese blood and my Vietnamese sweat liberated all those men, women, and children that Pol Pot would have had bashed open against oaks and steel walls, and no one could ever take that away from me. It doesn't matter what I do with the rest of my life, I will go to my grave knowing that I mattered."

"Tell me about the fighting you were involved in, in Cambodia," Dutch calmly says, hiding a soup of emotions in his tone, sadness, confusion, anger, happiness. Tuyết nods and says "I was in one of the first two divisions that entered Cambodia from the east. There was a small military and execution camp near Kratié. I remember seeing dolphins for the first time by the river. The camp was heavily guarded and I was told that the forces were mostly trained and equipped by China herself. I mostly served during the civil war by building traps for the Americans and Australians and the Korean mercenaries. I was still a teenager, and I was apparently too good with my fingers in setting spike and grenade traps to be wasted on the front lines. People told me I was collecting a good kill count, maybe they were honest. I was too young to understand anything except what I was told to do. When we entered Cambodia, I entered with a rifle around my shoulder, on the offensive for once. Got praise for picking three men off the eastern watchtower, allowed us to punch into the camp. I went with others to the torture cells, remember freeing Khmer and Laotians that looked more as skeletons then humans, one of them, later found out, was a Buddhist monk two days from his execution."

Dutch suddenly grimaces and crushes popcorn in his hands. Tuyết notices this and asks "What?"

Slowly turning to her, Dutch says "A friend of mine and myself joined the U.S. Marines with hearts full of Maoist love, least I did, not sure about Roscoe in hindsight. We joined the Marines to intentionally join you and the NVA, we planned this from the start. The NVA shot at us until we ended up in Laos, eventually getting involved with the Khmer Rouge in overthrowing Lon Nol and the Republic. We were mostly active in eastern Cambodia, fought in Phnom Penh, and were led by a serious Khmer Rouge guy by the name of Lo Chan. He was put in command of the camp you helped liberate. He rewarded us with imprisonment as 'American spies' and used us as executioners, me and my friend, so he wouldn't have 'good Khmer men soil their hands with blood'. He liked to speak in a dramatic, almost medieval kind of way. Anyway, I was about to put my pickaxe through the head of another poor bastard when shooting rang out and I finally got to put my pickaxe through Cheng Tam's nose. So many months having him stare at me while I killed day in and day out…Roscoe took out the man that was watching him and we grabbed their Kalashnikovs and escaped. Found an old U.S. torpedo patrol boat that was captured somehow. Took it, took as much fuel and food as we could, took a few refugees that were trying to escape, and went south until we hit Indonesia. So what I have to say is, thank you. And go on, continue."

Tuyết stares at Dutch, partially in shock. The corners of her mouth twist into an attempted smile as she processes what Dutch said. After a pause, Tuyết continues "I went through the cell block, occasionally snuffing out Cambodian soldiers, until I saw a large hulking figure with a rifle jolt around the corner and put a bullet through my cheek. I remember him muttering something, and then…and then he ran…"

"Was he dark, wearing ragged grey pants, and had a beard like Santa Claus?" Dutch asks, leaning forward with his water. Tuyết leans forward as well, stares into Dutch, and says "I remember the beard." Dutch starts chuckling and says "Well, on top of everything, I guess I also have to say, sorry." Tuyết starts chuckling and says "Yeah." The two individuals least likely to laugh both laugh in earnest. Their chuckling grows louder and louder until they burst out into hysterical laughter, medicine for bad memories.

Tuyết calms down and mutters "Ohh ehh that is very very funny." Dutch nods and says "Yeah… movie is about to start." Tuyết smiles and says "Yeah, okay." They look into each other's eyes and smile at each other, at the probability that they, as strangers, would met again a nation away, decades away. The two turn their attention to the television, as the FOX logo fades away.

Walking on Shahnajaf Road, in Lucknow, Baretsky, dressed in his aviator sunglasses, a black polo, grey jeans held up by a black leather belt, and orange and grey sneakers, sporting a stainless steel watch, and Jodorovski, dressed in a sky blue buttoned dress shirt, a dark blue denim jacket, blue jeans, and brown boat shoes, approach a four floor white colored building with dark glass walls on the upper floors. The two step through a revolving glass door into a carpet covered lobby with brown laminated wooden walls. Ignoring the receptionist at the lobby, they approach a steel elevator and press a button. The elevator doors part away immediately. The two step inside, with Jodorovski pressing the button for the third floor.

Exiting the elevator, Baretsky and Jodorovski come face to face with a large, sprawling room with almost nothing in it, the walls painted sky blue and the floors a tiled grey porcelain hue. A North Indian female receptionist sits at a desk, behind her a vast space of emptiness, as if building was just built and painted. On the side of the desk is a white sign that says in dark blue letters 'Fire Starter Leasing'.

The North Indian woman frowns and says in Bihari accented Hindi "Mr. Wong iss waqt yahaan nahi hai (Mister Wong is not here right now). Aap unki patni ke liye kaam karte hain (Are you working for his wife)? Woh apne vakeel ke bina baat karne se manaa kar chuke hain (He refuses to speak without his lawyer)." Jodorovski smiles and stops her, saying "Sorry, no Hindi. We are here to speak with Mr. Wong about buying the property." The receptionist raises her eyes at the two, studies them, and says "Mr. Wong is very busy right now." Baretsky scans the empty office and says "Very busy for man with nothing." The receptionist frowns again. Jodorovski cuts her off before she could say something, leaning forward as he speaks "We are representatives from a large kvass brewer from Yekaterinburg. We are thinking about opening a brewery here in India and want Lucknow as our launch city. We are willing to close the deal quickly, which is convenient if…" Jodorovski turns around and smiles at Baretsky "a certain potential seller wants to liquidate assets before a divorce turns uglier."

The receptionist glares at Jodorovski and mutters "How did…" She then quickly changes her tone, diplomatically saying "Mr. Wong is currently at the new nightclub 'Akoya'. Go two streets north in direction of the river and then turn right on Sapru Marg. Third building on the right." As Baretsky prepares to leave, the receptionist eagerly adds "He is the gentlemen in the blue shirt with the flame design, also has a gold chain around his neck. He has a few silver hairs on the side, mostly black. Please tell him Chitrashi sent you. Thank you!" Jodorovski nods and says "Will do, thank you very much. Have a pleasant day." He slightly bows and heads back to the elevator with Baretsky.

As the elevator doors close shut, the two start chuckling.

"Onah yevoh yebayit (She's fucking him)?" Baretsky asks, as the two exit the building and turn right. "Da ti shto (You don't say)? Razvhei nadoh esho sprashivat (Is it even necessary to ask)?" Jodorovski replies with a tone dripping in sarcasm. The two calmly walk along the street, ignoring pedestrians, assorted shops, and three men in cement stained clothing carrying bent steel beams out of a construction zone and into a large green dumpster.

"Nu shto dela c Kirgizah (Well what's the deal with the Kyrgyz)?" Baretsky asks as they cross the street. Jodorovski sighs and says "Shto ob etom (What about)? Starih, bihti vor, nashol neft y hochit staht oligarch (Old, beaten thief, found oil and wants to be oligarch). Patom pakupaht commanduh futbolnih, staht druzitsa c Boris Abramovich, y priyehat c cmoking na tom idiotskih novi godni spektakuhl dermo na pervuhm canaleih c vseh etih stari, drevnhi pevitsi c rezinovih mordih y staht kak vseh ostolniyih novi ruskih pedikeh (Then purchase a football team, become friendly with Boris Abramovich, and arrive with a tuxedo at that idiotic New Year's spectacle crap on channel 1 with all the old, ancient singers with rubber faces and be like the rest of the New Russian faggots). Nu vot mechta (Well that's the dream)."

Baretsky shakes his head and says "Zabivai shto ya spracilh (Forget that I asked)." "Zabilh (Forgot it). Nu, paidoim (Well, we going)? Na diskatech (To the disco), dlyah tantsih y travah (for dancing and weed)? Ah, eta bilih sladkih vremenah (Ah, those were sweet times)," Vadim finishes, smiling, nostalgic about his youth.

"Ti budish egraht c Indus, pravda (You will play with the Hindu, right)?" Baretsky asks. Vadim nods and says "Da, pahozhei shto eta ni yerundah (Yes, looks like it is isn't nonsense). Dvadsaht budu daht, pasmotrehm (Twenty I'll give, we will see)." After a pause, Vadim says "Tolkah molodieh shitayut shto Roccyia bolshayah, y Indiah esho mensheih (Only the young count on Russia being large, and India is even smaller)." Pavel and Vadim turn the corner as Pavel says "Gdeh sukih perdiht, vor budiht nuhait (Where the bitches fart, the thief will sniff)."

The two reach a four floor brick building with a fire escape on the left side alleyway, a green dumpster under the fire escape. A few tinted glass walls allow the two to peer into Akoya, spotting a tall bouncer frisking people for weapons and date rape drugs. Baretsky motions to Vadim and whispers "Ya ni sckrivayu yevo v moeih zhopah (I'm not hiding it in my ass)." Vadim points at the fire escape and says "Vot, pavizloh (Here, we got lucky)." "Horoshoh, ya iduh pervih (Fine, I'll go first)," Pavel says, slightly disappointed. Vadim smirks and pats Pavel on his enlarged belly, saying "Dai mneh pistoleht y poiti cherez frohnt (Give me the pistol and go through the front). Vstrechimsah v bareh (Will meet at the bar)."

The two walk deep into the alleyway next to Akoya. Pavel lifts his right jean cuff and reveals a Makarov pistol in an ankle holster. He quickly hands it to Vadim, who then stuffs it into his denim jacket's right pocket. Pavel motions his head towards the front as Jodorovski awkwardly uses a garbage can to climb onto the closed dumpster, retching at its smell and regretting his earlier enthusiasm for the unorthodox. He watches Pavel turn the corner and wait for a pedestrian to walk out of view, and then leaps at the retracted fire escape ladder. Climbing upwards, using his old VDV training, Jodorovski scales the retracted ladder like a cat after prey, vaulting onto the fire escape proper. He spots a third floor window opened, with thin lines of cigarette smoking peering out of it. Moving quietly like a panther, Jodorovski moves to the third floor of the fire escape and crouches by the window.

After waiting a minute, he watches a cigarette bud fly out the window and into the alley. Peering through the window, he sees a shirtless North Indian man in blood red boxers exit through a door. Vadim then hears a faucet go off and realizes his chance.

He crouches his body and leaps through the window without touching the window frame with his hands. Vadim lands slightly awkwardly on his toes and feels Pavel's Makarov sliding out of his pocket. Jodorovski catches the pistol before it hits the ground and stuffs it back into his denim jacket pocket. He scans the room around him, a lounge area for what appears to be either the owner of the club or a place to do business. A small, recently used hookah pipe stands on a wooden coffee table, hot coals still glowing on top of aluminum foil. The smell of apple scented tobacco fills the room.

Hearing loud Indipop music outside room, Jodorovski approaches the door and opens the knob with his left hand covered in his sleeve. He quickly closes the door and returns his hands to his pockets. Finding himself in a hallway with a set of carpeted stairs leading to the ground floor, Jodorovski hears a man walking from behind.

"Oye kon hai tu? (Hey, who are you)?" says a thickly mustached South Indian man dressed in jeans, a red and white checkered buttoned shirt tucked under a black leather belt, and white tennis shoes, his shirt partially unbuttoned and revealing a hairy chest and a gold necklace. Vadim turns around and smiles, saying "Sorry, no Hindi. Where is bathroom?" The South Indian man glares at him in annoyance and angrily says in Andhra Pradesh accented Hindi "Staff only here! Do not come back this way. Bathroom to left of bar." Vadim nods and says "Thank you."

Heading down the stairs, Vadim finds himself in a crowded dance floor, dozens of people dancing to 'Saat Samundar Paar' from the Hindi film Vishwatma. He navigates through the crowd, gently pushes a Thai tourist out of the way, and makes his way to the bar, empty aside from the bartender and Pavel sitting on a bar stool, sipping on a shot of scotch. Vadim puts his right arm on Pavel's shoulder and yells "Ti sahvsehm sashol sumah (Have you completely snapped)? Paidi esho slunaht na barmenah, dai Interpol esho DNK shtobih cobraht (Go drool on the bartender, give Interpol more DNA to collect). Pazohr (Embarrassment)." Pavel finishes his scotch and says "Nu, pashol kchertuveh mahtereih (Well, go to hell). Ilih idih soh mnoi, nahs Pongsak shas v baneh (Or go with me, our Pongsak is now in the bathroom)."

The two Hotel Moscow goons step into the men's room, sink counter on the left, four bathroom stalls on the right. One stall is shut with four legs visible from below, facing the back fall, moving front and back. In front of the sink mirror, a 40-something year old Thai man with a receding black hairline, silver hairs on the sides, a half unbuttoned blue leisure shirt with a red flame design, designer blue jeans, and a gold chain hanging on his exposed chest, poses and flexes to no one's amusement. He dabs his fingers in water and slicks his hair back, saying in Thai-accented English "Look good, feel good. Am good, yeah."

He suddenly has a hairy Belarussian arm grab the back of his neck. Jodorovski pulls Pongsak back and throws him into a nearby empty stall. He then pulls out a Makarov pistol out his pocket, hands one to Baretsky, and says "Skazhiti im, banyah zakriht za chistkuh (Tell them, bathroom is closed for cleaning)." Pavel nods and straps his Makarov into his ankle holster. Vadim turns around, swings a right hook at Pongsak's chin, sending him back to the floor, and reaches down for his own ankle holster and Makarov. The DJ switches to 'Dil Dhadke' by Baba Sehgal.

Drawing the Makarov, Jodorovski overhears grunting a few stalls down. Thinking no one is paying attention, Jodorovski grabs Pongsak by the throat with his left hand and lifts him up. Pongsak mutters "Please, I have no money." Vadim smirks and says "Hello Pongsak Shinasharn." Pongsak's eyes light up, his bleeding lip adding color to his now pale complexion. "Oh please, man, I pay her back, I have money." Vadim shoves Pongsak into the toilet, back of his head going in first, so as to make sure Pongsak never loses sight of the Makarov. Vadim presses his left foot onto Pongsak's upper chest and keeps the con-artist partially submerged in toilet water.

Gurgling toilet water, Pongsak manages to say "Wait, please man, I pay, I pay!" _"Na na na na na na na!"_ Vadim blankly says "It's not about money. It's about who we can trust." *BANG* The couple by the stall immediately shriek and fall to their knees, reacting to the gunshot. Vadim quickly holsters his Makarov as the toilet bowl turns a crimson red, awash in blood and brain matter. His fingers twitching, Pongsak's bowels release themselves as his body shuts down, the last things he heard amongst the living: a gunshot, grunts, and Baba Sehgal.

The two Hotel Moscow assassins calmly exit the bathroom, ignore the confused crowd that's attempting to find the source of the noise, and quietly but urgently exit the club, their assignment fulfilled.

Pacing around in Rock's cabin, onboard the Lagoon, Ulagammal, dressed in a white and blue horizontally striped t-shirt and beige shorts, says "So, I guess this makes me part of the A-team." Revy, dressed in her black tank top and corduroy capris, cracks her knuckles and says "Yeah, until you do something stupid enough for Dutch to let me shoot you." Ulagammal laughs and says "Your beleaguered pencil pusher acquaintance seems to still be breathing, I think, and he set the bar for stupid shit pretty high."

Seated on Rock's bed, Revy turns around and takes a look at Rock, his face a hodge-podge of purple, red, and mauve. His cheeks are swollen and look like a chipmunk's in October. Revy pats Rock on his chest and says "Marty wired the funds, we're getting paid. Pretty fucking well actually, should be enough to set us up for a month or so. Says he's going to work in a bonus for all of us." Rock mumbles something incoherently, trying to smile, finding it painful to try. Revy smirks and says "Gotta admit, that was pretty fucking stupid of you. Oh I haven't seen Dutchy boy that pissed in a while, damn you got shit beaten out of you. He actually went kinda easy on you. What? I'm serious. I once saw Dutch beat on a guy so hard the fucker's nose caved in." Rock again mumbles incoherently. Revy says "Relax Rocky boy, your plan worked out, despite your dumbass screen pass audible at the end. Colonel Buttfuckhead's breathing but humbled, Marty's Viets no longer going Hue City on our asses, everything's cool." She licks the gap where her tooth once stood, groaning in annoyance.

Ulagammal claps her hands together and says "So, we going to Roanapur next, right?" Revy creases her left cheek a bit, looks up, and says "Yeah at first. Dutch wants to head to Ko Samui Island, meet with an old war buddy of his. Benny is coming with him. Rock and I are getting dropped off in Roanapur." Ulagammal snaps her fingers and theatrically points her right index finger at Revy, saying "Perfect, I want to get my shit out of Phuket." "We ain't a fucking taxi," Revy snarls. Ulagammal nods and says "I know, you don't even charge a fare. It's great. Now, Weerawat, God rest his soul and all that, and I have a small file back in our safe house, some robbery gigs we…were formulating. Most are…ambitious, I must say, but some can be done with just a few hired guns. Seems a shame to let it go to waste. And then there's the whole conspiracy to commit robbery charge thing." Revy sighs and says "Okay, I get it. Talk to Dutch about it."

"Will do!" Ulagammal says, stepping out of the cabin. She starts whistling "Yelelelele…Ajax Amsterdam!" She shuts the cabin door and continues on her path, her whistling echoing throughout the torpedo boat.

Enjoying her newfound privacy, Revy turns back to Rock and smiles, and, under her breath, silent enough for no one to hear, subtle enough for no one to lip read, says "Thanks Dutch."

Stepping into a hospital room, wincing with every step, a Vietnamese man carries a loaf of artisan bread in his right hand, the bread in a paper bag. The man sports short, combed back, black hair, thin eyebrows, and a thick moustache. He is dressed in the uniform of the Đà Lạt police department.

Approaching the sick bed of Senior Colonel Hiếu Văn Phạm, the police officer rests the bread on a bedside table and says "Xin chào (Hello)." Senior Colonel Phạm fidgets in his sick bed, an IV attached to his left arm. He asks "Bạn muốn một cái gì đó (Do you want something)?" The police officer smiles painfully and bows. Still bowed, he says "Thưa ông, tôi nghe những gì đã xảy ra với bạn (Sir, I heard what happened to you). Tên tôi là Trần Quang Tuyến (My name is Tuyến Quang Trần). Tôi là một cảnh sát của phòng cảnh sát Đà Lạt (I am a police officer of the Đà Lạt police department)."

Senior Colonel Phạm proceeds to stare at Tuyến Quang Trần with more attention. The Senior Colonel says "Tôi đang nghe đây (I am listening). Đứng thẳng (Stand straight)." The police officer rises from his bow, revealing tears in his eyes. He says "Những động vật xấu xa (The vicious beasts). Những người bắn bạn (Those who shot you)." He chokes up in tears. Composing himself, the cop says "Họ đã giết anh trai của tôi (They killed my brother). Ông là điều duy nhất tôi đã để lại trong cuộc sống của tôi (He was the only thing I had left in my life). Và bây giờ, ông là chết (And now, he is dead). Xin vui long (Please)! Nếu có bất cứ điều gì tôi có thể làm, cho tôi biết (If there is anything I can do, tell me). Chỉ cần ... nói từ đó (Just…say the word)."

A vicious smile growing on Senior Colonel Phạm's face, the soon to retire military commander drums up one final order. Sticking his right hand out from under the white sheets, Phạm beckons the mourning cop to come closer. He gently places his right palm on the cop's left clenched fist, and says "Nghe chặt chẽ (Listen closely)."


	13. Basic Ingredient

"Hello Roscoe," Dutch says, standing on the front lawn of Roscoe Ward's two floor house, the walls wooden and painted a blood red, the roof triangular and extending past the wall, as if it is a large mushroom. Dutch is dressed in brown boots, black cargo pants held up by a brown belt with a steel buckle, a green sleeveless shirt, and a red Adidas tracksuit jacket. The sky is illuminated by stars and a distant spotlight by the beach in Ko Samui. Roscoe, dressed in beige cargo shorts, orange flip flops, and a long sleeve grey sweater, blankly mutters "Hey Marion…Dutch. You back from Vietnam?" By Roscoe's side, a short Thai woman with long black hair in what looks to be her third trimester of pregnancy, dressed in grey sandals, blue jeans, and a saffron colored shirt. She stares warily at Dutch.

In Dutch's right hand, a satchel hovers over the ground. Dutch turns around and nods at the black fourth generation Honda Civic parked by curb. Sitting in the front side passenger seat, Benny nods back at Dutch. He is dressed in a bright yellow and red tropical pattern designed shirt, the shirt adorned with lotus petals and Oriental White-Eye birds. Turning back to Roscoe, Dutch asks "Got a minute? And hey, Angkhana right? Name is Marion Savage-DeVries, I'm an old friend of Roscoe."

Roscoe glares at Dutch uncomfortably, slightly showing offense to Dutch's visit. He turns to Angkhana and whispers in American accented Thai "Karuna rosak khruw sahm rabchan ni xhongnon (Please wait for me in the bedroom)." Angkhana stares warily at Dutch, and then turns to her husband and asks "Keow ku krai (Who is he)?" Roscoe replies "Pingche phuchai khon ng (Just a man)?" Angkhana asks again "Keowte tahmrai khun (Will he hurt you)?" Roscoe turns to Dutch and whispers "Mih iek leow (Not anymore)."

At that, Angkhana steps through the opened front door and disappears into the living room, a grey ottoman seat cushion barely visible from outside. Roscoe reaches for the brass doorknob and slowly pushes the door until only a sliver of space remains between it and the doorway. Turning back to Dutch, Roscoe asks "What do you want?"

Dutch says "I was here last week, remember?" "I ain't gotten dementia yet, despite all the crap you put me through," Roscoe replies with scorn. Dutch grimaces just a bit, holding back his emotions to the best of his abilities. He says "We don't have to be friends anymore. I get it, a lot of shit happened and you rightfully blame me for it. I just want to pay my debts." "Debts?" Roscoe replies, as if the word only serves to anger himself more.

Dutch drops the satchel onto the grass. Rubbing the back of his neck, he says "In my life I owed two debts. One to God. The other to you. When I jailbroke all those Cambodians that Pol Pot wanted pickaxed, armed those of them, and you, that could hold a gun, and gave them refuge in Indonesia, I considered my slate with the guy upstairs to be clean, principle and interest. When I left you in Indonesia and ran as far away as possible, I paid back the principle I owed you. Here is the interest."

"Interest?! You fucking asshole, Marion! You left me in a country with a bunch of people who barely avoided starving, gave them and me a few AK-47s, and didn't even giving me a fucking Malay-to-English dictionary before you took that torpedo boat to Lord knows where! What the hell were you thinking?!" The veins on Roscoe's neck pulsate as his knuckles shake in rage. Dutch, still maintaining the faint grimace, answers "I was doing you a favor. Everywhere I dragged you into, I took three more scoops of dirt out of your grave. At that point, I intended to find someplace to go die in, with liquor, coke, women, I didn't know. I just knew I'd be disappointed if I lived to see another year. And given how you detoxed off opium, I couldn't do that to you again."

Roscoe seethes in anger as Dutch continues "You have an addictive personality and I couldn't make it worse for…" "Fuck…you," Roscoe cuts Dutch off with decades aged bile. Dutch frowns and mutters "Roscoe…" Roscoe cuts Dutch off again and curses "You brainwashed dingle-berry, still clinging onto me like a shadow reach to suck every shred of happiness I have. Oakland, Vietnam, Cambodia, and now, you are here, and you just keep taking and taking and taking and dragging people into whatever nonsense your thinking of then and there you fucking punk!"

"Do I appear as the teenager I was when I left you behind in Indonesia? Roscoe, I have thirty thousand dollars in this bag, enough for you and your wife and your unborn child to live comfortably for a year," Dutch speaks, his jaw clenching slightly. Roscoe replies "No, you look like some asshole that thinks a couple thousand dollars of blood money is reparations for the shit you dragged me into. Keep your thirty thousand and keep your 'friendship'. If I see you on my property again, I swear I will call the police."

Dutch suddenly bursts into laughter, saying "Oh I'd give you double just to see you try." "GET! OUT!" Roscoe yells. "DONE!" Dutch yells, tossing the satchel onto the green, slightly dew stained grass. "Do whatever you want with it, I do not care. As far as I am concerned, we are strangers," Dutch coldly speaks. Roscoe laughs sarcastically and says "Oh if only that was the case thirty fucking years ago."

Dutch takes a few steps toward Benny and the Honda Civic when Roscoe yells "Take your guilt money with you, I don't want it!" Dutch coldly replies "I don't want it. It's not mine anymore." Roscoe seethes, taking a step forward. He yells "Are you crazy?! What will people think if they see I got a satchel of dirty cash on my front lawn?!" Dutch laughs slightly and says "I don't care. Why don't you call the police?" "You asshole!" Roscoe replies, slamming the house door shut. He then walks over the window on the right and peers through the drapes.

Seated inside the passenger seat of the car, Dutch sighs and asks "Is he watching us through the window?" "Yep," Benny blankly replies. "He'll take the money. They always do," Dutch says, a melancholy tone in his voice. Benny suddenly blurts out "I just remembered that I have your New Year's present inside the glove compartment all this time." Dutch turns left and gives Benny a confused look. He says "Better not be perishable then…" "Oh it definitely isn't," Benny replies, barely hiding his snickering.

Dutch opens the glove compartment and finds a few spare car parts, a pack of cigarettes, a stun gun, and a beige plastic bag stuffed with something rectangular shaped. Dutch uses process of elimination and takes the plastic bag. He turns on an overhead car light and reads "Meals Ready To Eat…" After a pause, Dutch lowers his head and loses himself in snickering laughter, placing his left hand on his forehead. He turns back to Benny and watch the Lagoon radio operator speak with a shit-eating grin "Happy New Year, boss."

"They sell MREs on the black market?" Dutch asks. Benny smiles and says "They sold some surplus units that came from the Philippines, after that typhoon." Dutch shakes his head and says "In the short time we were in the Marines, Roscoe loved to 'rat-fuck' these for the M&Ms. Would just open up five of them and hoard all the good stuff to himself."

Dutch tears open the top fold and says "Let's see what we got here." He reaches inside the bag and sorts through the contents. "Salt, pepper, instant coffee, cocoa powder, gum, hand towels, powdered milk, cream cheese, a pack of saltines, a Kit-Kat bar, we never got those. And for the main course…" He pulls out a pack of four grey sausages, and then bursts into laughter. "I think I nearly died of dysentery from these." Dutch turns back to Roscoe's house, smirks to himself, and then says "One second."

Pulling the Kit-Kat bar, instant coffee, and gum out of the MRE bag, Dutch rolls down the window and tosses the bag out of the car. The remaining contents spill out mid-air, landing on the edge of Roscoe's lawn. Satisfied with himself, Dutch turns back to Benny and says "I'm done here. Drive." "You got it boss," Benny replies.

* * *

Driving up to an intersection, residential homes on the left and right, with a few shacks serving food in front of them, Dutch says "As your employer, I believe good hard work and company loyalty should be reward with year-end bonuses. With that, keep an eye out for a classy place to eat and drink. It's on me."

"You know you have to get in there," Revy says, dressed in her usual tank top and corduroy shorts, in the driver seat of their Lincoln Town car. The cigarette nearly spent, she exhales smoke and eyes wearily at the smoke shop called 'Suphawut's Cigarettes'. She smirks and adds "Finds a way to scrape all that cash together and too retarded to give an original name…oh yeah, he borrowed money from 'people'. So, still retarded. Like you, Rocky, I mean….that guy owes you $965 with a 20 points monthly kicker and you agree to $385 with the same kicker? Fuck that, go for the, what, $1,100 and call it a day."

Rock, dressed in the Hawaiian shirt and black slacks, ponders with his chin rested against his right fist, saying "I like that man. I know him for a while…it didn't feel right to salt the wounds. I only asked for interest because Gustavo and…you…were watching." "So it's my fault your idiot friend tried to punt above his waist?" Revy asks, slightly annoyed. "I didn't say that…fine…I'll go. Um…wait by the door." Revy tosses her cigarette out the car window and asks "Think you'd need help? You did go all Norman Stansfield in a Joker costume on a Vietnamese general…colonel, whatever the hell he was. I mean, compared to Hiếu Văn Phạm, you'd eat Suphawut for breakfast and ask for seconds."

Exiting the car, baked in an unusually sweltering Roanapur January, Rock says "It's not…the same when it's about someone you care about. Or at least…think you did." Revy raises an eyebrow and grows sullen, watching Rock pass the rear of the car and approach the entrance. Sighing, Revy opens her driver side door and exits, following Rock. As Rock passes through the glass entrance, Revy casually rests her back against the glass wall to the left of the doorway.

Rock steps inside, a tense smile on his face. Freshly renovated, the convenience store is stocked with an array of chips, breads, sweets, including a few of Takahashi's products, magazines, and a wide cooler stretching for the entire wall to the right, filled to the brim with beers and sodas from all across Southeast Asia.

Standing at the counter, Suphawut, his hair a matted mess, scribbles on a wooden clipboard, a shelf behind him, filled with cigarette cartons, cigarette packs, condom packs, chewing tobacco, and glass and ceramic pipes, bongs, and hookahs of various shapes and sizes. A grey radio on the counter plays Vietnamese 60s rock music.

"Suphawut, hey," Rock tensely announces. Looking up, a frantic smile erupts on Suphawut's face. He replies "Oh Rock, hey, hey. Nice store, yes? I just opened two days ago. Business slow but getting better. I sold a few cartons today, and then this weird Irishman purchased Magnum condoms and an American magazine, Sports Illustrated." Rock laughs, humoring Suphawut, approaching the counter. Suphawut places his palms on the counter edge, as if to brace for impact.

Rock sighs and speaks "You know why I am here." "Yeah, you just want to catch up, see the store. It nice, no?" Suphawut nervously replies. "Please Suphawut, do not make this harder…" Rock starts, only to be interrupted by Suphawut saying "What's wrong, relax, it's a good day." Rock grits his teeth and replies "You know what is wrong…" "No I don't!" Suphawut yells. "Yes you do, friend, yes you do. You owe me $463 and I, have, HAVE, to collect this," Rock replies. "No you don't!" Suphawut yells, his body starting to shack. "Yes I do, that's how this city works!" Rock yells back. "Liar! Liar, liar, liar! Six months ago, after that Chinese hacker got brains splattered, you keep angry, saying how you want to change city, want to fix it. I keep listening and hell, I believed you, man! So what now?" Suphawut tensely answers.

Rock grimaces and speaks "Things changed! People changed! But this city, it doesn't change! And it does not matter about me trying to change this city, or you screwing up in a poker game, or whether you borrowed money for a meth habit or a contribution to this nation's GDP! You…owe me, me, $463, and if I do not walk out of this store with $463, my reputation will be as useless as a broken vending machine. So please, as a friend, do not make this harder than it has to be, just give me $463…my $463, and I will walk away."

"I DO NOT HAVE $463!" Suphawut yells, finally at his edge, his fist clenched. Rock simply brushes the gesture aside, having seen much worse at breakfast. "Yes you do, Suphawut, yes you do. And the more you lie to me, the more angry I will become," Rock replies. "Or what, what you going to do, sic your girlfriend on me?!" Suphawut yells, only to receive right hook clean across the cheek. Suphawut staggers in shock, as Rock yells "Revy!"

Stepping into the store, Revy coldly eyes Suphawut, asking "Yeah Rock?" Rock speaks "Your Football Dish party…" "Superbowl Party, dumbass," Revy corrects. "Your Superbowl Party, with Dutch and Benny, do you have everything you need?" Rock asks. Revy shrugs her shoulders and says "Well, we ain't got to the catering yet so…" Rock interrupts "Well you're in luck, because this time, Suphawut will pay the bill. $463 Revy, and not a penny less. Have fun."

Suphawut yells "Wait! No! How can I run store with no inventory?! You can't dare let some bi…" "Ah-uh-uh, Suphafuck, I won't finish that sentence if I were you. Only reason your brains ain't splattered over that fine wooden countertop is because Rock still considers you one of his guys, ain't that right?" Revy asks, aiming her Cutlass at a terrified Suphawut, targeting his chest. Suphawut backs away, his eyes frozen in horror. The radio continues to play "Tinh Yêu Tuyệt Vời" by CBC Band.

Rock says "That's enough, I think he gets the idea. So…$463. Let's go shopping."

Hauling the last of the Singha beer from the cooler, Revy approaches the exit and says "I'll see you in the car. Fuckin' a, this will keep us stocked for months." The radio, currently in the middle of one of Sang Cao's tirades, plays " _And today, I must speak about something…something that has been difficult for me to approach_." Rock whistles at Suphawut and says "By my count, we are still five dollars short." Suphawut mutters under his breath "Fuck you…"

"What did you just say?" Rock asks. Suphawut, looking upward, infuriated, humiliated, his eyes red from tearing, he speaks "No…I am not five dollar short. We are done. You have everything…I don't know how I will maintain store." Rock stares behind Suphawut and speaks "We left you cigarette shelf untouched. Just give me a pack of those…Natural American Spirit, and I will walk out of here." Sang Cao continues _"As you all may have known, Southern Vietnam was rocked by a serious of absolutely disgusting terrorist attacks."_ Suphawut says "No...NO, NO, NO! Get out, I paid your debt!" Rock leans closer and says "I believe I asked you to do something." His eyes, different than those he stepped into the store with. Angrier, smugger, insulted. Placing his hands on the counter, Rock speaks "Who the hell do you think you are dealing with? Huh? Some office drone bean counter that will walk away because you said 'no' four times in a row? Get me my fucking pack of cigarettes now!"

" _And while you may know my lack of love for those backstabbing, Stalinist assholes in power, it was not them that caught the brunt of the violence."_ Suphawut stands his ground, yelling "No, I am done being beat down like this. Every person in this city treat me as shit. I get robbed, beaten, conned, they all take me for fool! When I met you, I thought I found someone different, someone that opened my eyes, that there are honest, good people out here!" _"It is the rank and file military, the local policeman, the plumber bringing cake to his widowed wife and infant daughter…"_ Suphawut continues "But you are just like them all! Like Chang! Like Balalaika! Like Gustavo! You smile and shake hands and as soon as it comes to money you tear my skin off to get your share! You fucking coward!" _"It's those victims that we, we should hold a moment of silence to. Those that were murdered by these cowardly masked monsters."_

Drawing his M9 from his hip holster with yet unknown animalistic urgency and slamming the barrel across the chin, Rock, his eyes a red mist of hatred, climbs over the counter and pounces on Suphawut, who is bleeding from the lip. He pistol whips Suphawut several times, each attempt blocked by Suphawut's left wrist, the last strike cracking a bone. Clutching the Thai convenience store owner by the hair, Rock slams Suphawut face first into the glass cigarette cabinet, cracking the glass, yelling "You fucking piece of shit!" Jerking his hair back, Rock slams Suphawut face first into the cabinet again, shattering glass and Suphawut's nose, yelling "I'll see you who's the fucking monster!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Revy asks, as Rock grabs the radio and smashes it on the ground in a petulant rage. Panting as Suphawut nurses his bloodied face in silent agony, Rock shakes his head and says "Revy, take as many cigarettes from the cabinet that you can carry. I…I need to take a smoke break." "Alright Rock…sure you won't do any stupid shit outside? I mean, just saying, there are people outside. They can see you," Revy asks with a tinge of annoyance and anger. Rock nods and says "I'll be good, I…I just…need to be left alone."

Exiting the store, Rock walks up to the opened trunk of the Town Car. The trunk filled with nearly the entire inventory of Suphawut's store, Rock stares at it and rubs his forehead. He reaches into his pockets and retrieves a pack of Natural American Spirit and a lighter. Pulling a cigarette out and lighting it, Rock pockets his cigarette pack, takes a drag, exhales, and turns around to a Southeast Asian man approaching him, dressed in a tan brown trench coat and black loafers. The man, sporting short, combed back, black hair, thin eyebrows, and a thick moustache, holds a cigarette between his brown leather glove wearing left hand and asks in Vietnamese-accented English "Spare a light?"

A gust of wind blows across the length of the sun-blasted Roanapur street. Rock extends his lighter, gripped with his right hand. The ex-salaryman says "Kinda warm for that kind of clothes." The Vietnamese man leans his head forward, cigarette now transitioned in his mouth, and lights it, taking a drag, drawing a plume of white smoke. As the plume caresses Rock's face, the ex-salaryman watches the Vietnamese man's leather glove wearing right hand brandish a hunting knife that punctures his left lung.

"This is for Đà Lạt. This is for my brother," the Vietnamese man coldly mutters as he pulls the knife out of Rock and plunges it again, adding "This is for all the police you and your bitch partner killed." A cough of blood trickles down Rock's lips as he stares in shock, his back pressed against the opened trunk of the car. He attempts to reach for his pistol, only to realize that his lighter holding hand is held in place by his assailant's left hand.

Rock's knees buckle as he gasps "How?" "Senior Colonel Hiếu Văn Phạm sends his regards," the Vietnamese man adds as he plunges the knife into Rock's chest for a third time. He pulls the knife back, and suddenly collapses onto his back, shot in the right shoulder by one of Revy's Cutlasses. Leaving a pile of cigarette cartons on the sidewalk, Revy runs up to the Vietnamese man and fires three angry shots into his head, piercing his nose and forehead. She then turns to Rock, lifts him by the shoulders, and immediately drags him toward the front-side passenger seat. Shoving Rock inside, she yells "Hang in there, for fuck's sake hang in there. Hold the wound with your hand…Rock…fuck, fuck!" Running around the back of the car, Revy slams the trunk shut and then hops into the driver's seat. A quick twist of the key, a pull of the handle into drive, and the Town Car drives off, leaving the deceased Vietnamese man bleeding out on the asphalt.

A seagull flies past a speeding Town Car and perches itself upon the gate railing next to Bougainvillea Trading Company. There, two middle-aged veterans of the Soviet-Afghan war cheer on and clap each other's hands as a cricket match concludes. Across the TV in the Hotel Moscow headquarters, a radio announces that the body of a Hawaiian-American tourist named Russell Keowe is currently held in a morgue in the outskirts of Roanapur, as local Thai officials struggle with what to do with the corpse, following the death of Mr. Keowe's dementia-addled father, and last remaining kin, in a recent traffic accident over in Hawaii. Down below, in an alleyway, a homeless Vietnam-war vet indulges in a fat shot of heroin, his back resting against a green dumpster. Closing his eyes, the man smiles, content, reduced to his most basic ingredient.


	14. The Greatest Trick

A gleaming katana with a black hilt patterned with white plus signs inside a white circle rests on dark green grass glazed in dew. Dressed in dirty grey robes reaching down to his knees and wooden platform sandals, a leather belt circling his waists and a leather circular badge on his robes, Rokuro Okajima grabs the hilt, the hilt cold as the steel it supports and cradles. In front of him, a mob of Japanese Ashigaru peasants congregate around him, all men, all wearing robes of various colors without leather badges, most wearing black, wide, short conical has, some wearing crude leather chest plates worn like overalls. The mob wields an assortment of sickles, knives, and bamboo spears. Behind the mob, several straw huts burn ablaze as a robe wearing elderly man with a leather badge on his chest gets skewered by two peasants with bamboo spears, the man yelling meekly in pain with every thrust of the spear. In the distance, several robe-wearing men and women, some holding children in their arms, are driven over a cliff by spear-wielding Ashigaru.

His body shaking, Rokuro Okajima lifts the katana off the grass with both hands and points the sword toward the mob, taking a step back. From within the mob, a man in intricate ebony-colored samurai armor with dark blue shoulder pads and blood orange lines across the edges of the shoulder pads and greaves, missing his helmet, emerges and takes a step toward Okajima. The chest plate of his armor holds a design of a white plus sign within a thing white circle. The man, sporting grayish black haired combed back and a pointing chin, laughs and says "Your lord, Kageyama-sama, is quite amused. I am surprised that a dog such as yourself could comprehend the right end to touch the blade, let alone a proper stance. I am impressed. Quite impressed. For a man that lived as an animal for so long, I will give you the chance to die like a samurai. Take the sword and plunge it into your neck. I, Kageyama, command you to take my sword, that you taken from my possession, and plunge it into your neck."

Sweat running down Okajima's left cheek, Rokuro stands firm and glares angrily at Kageyama. Laughing, Kageyama takes a step forward and says "Honorably end your life like a man, for the crimes you committed against law and nature." Furious and indignant, Rokuro yells "You had me living like an animal my entire life! Why should I entertain you and die like a man now?!" Kageyama smiles menacingly, extends his gauntlet-wearing left hand toward Okajima, and says "Die by your hand, or we will all intently examine the canine organs of your Buraku-dog body." Seething in rage, Rokuro refuses to move an inch. Kageyama reaches for the blade with his left hand and laughs, saying "This animal cannot possibly wield a samurai's blade, the fine intricacies of swordplay, the years of training and adherence to Bushido. Very well, you will die like the vermin you are."

Kageyama, laughing hysterically, grabs the blade by the sharpened side with his left gauntlet. His laughter slowly morphs into horror as his left hand falls off by the wrist, spraying blood. As Rokuro slowly pushes the katana centimeter by centimeter forward, Kageyama's left arm falls cleanly off, followed by his right hand, his right arm, his ears, his nose, his eyes, all spraying blood. His chest splits like a cross as his feet fall off their ankles. Kageyama's evenly sliced body congregates like a scrambled jigsaw puzzle on the blood red grass as the Ashigaru proceed to step back. Seething in rage, Rokuro scans and marks every single Ashigaru in his path and lunges forward.

An Ashigaru plunges his spear at Rokuro, the spear striking the sharp end of the katana and splitting in half, as Rokuro proceeds to bisect the man vertically. He turns left and ducks as a sickle-wielding Ashigaru accidently impales a charging Ashigaru in the heart. Rokuro rises up and drives his katana up the Ashigaru's chest, splitting him from the abdomen up like a zipper. Blood rains on the grass and on Rokuro as the Ashigaru flee, as Rokuro chases after them, as Rokuro cuts them at their limbs and sends the field into a chorus of horrifying wails. Pouncing on an Ashigaru, he tries to flip the Ashigaru on his back and readies his katana for a final plunge.

"Wait! Stop!" Officer Trần yells, dressed in his charcoal suit and pants combination, his white dress shirt, his red tie, and his large, rectangular glasses, the top half of the glasses sporting a grey frame. Rock, dressed in his salaryman attire, glares frightfully at Fujiwara, clenching Trần's tie in his left hand. Rock drops the dark green pen in his right hand, the pen bouncing gently on white porcelain tiles. "Please, please stop Mr. Okajima," Trần meekly mumbles, grabbing the pen with his left hand. "Please stop," Trần continues, angling the pen toward Rock. "Please stop!" he yells as he stabs Rock in the liver repeatedly, to Rock's abject horror.

"PLEASE STOP!" He stabs once more. "PLEASE STOP!" He plunges the pen once again. "PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP!" As Rock glares numbly at Officer Trần, a bolt of lightning reduces Trần to ash. Now shrouded in darkness, Rock looks up, getting onto his feet, blood dripping from his liver. He feels cold, his breaths almost visible in the darkness. He feels around his body, realizing that he is now shirtless and barefoot, wearing just his dress pants. Rock places his right hand on the location of the pen stab wound, and moves his hands down, suddenly feeling a sharp surge of pain, as if his body was just carved. His fingers feel sticky. Wincing in pain, Rock brings his fingers to his lips and licks them. A metallic taste stings his mouth. "Blood," he feebly mutters.

The lights flash on, blinding Rock. Covering his eyes with his hands, he staggers a step back. He trips on his tie and falls back first onto a cold concrete wall. Adjusting his eyesight, Rock hears laughter surrounding him. His vision slowly returns as a trio of blurry figures stand before him. A moment later, his vision clears, revealing to Rock a meat locker empty aside from Luca Cavalcanti, dressed in a beige sports jacket, a white undershirt, beige dress pants held up by a black leather belt, and black dress shoes. He is seated and tied to a wooden chair, laughing. Flanking his left, Yukio Washimine, dressed in a brown long coat held together by dark brown knots, a dark blue skirt that flows just slightly under the coat, and grey sneakers, also laughs, both her hands grasping onto the hilt of the katana that's lodged through her throat. Flanking Cavalcanti's right, Masami Kousa, the former head of the Kousa Clan that Balalaika shot on Rock's suggestion, aims his Accu-Tek HC-380 at Rock, dressed in a sky blue robe, white undershirt, gold chain, and sandals.

Rock hurriedly runs toward Masami Kousa and grabs his pistol. He twists the HC-380 around and slips his finger onto the trigger. A struggle, and the pistol goes off, shooting Masami Kousa in the forehead, sending him crumbling onto the cold, porcelain floor. Yukio and Luca continue to laugh. Rock turns around and points his newly acquired pistol at Yukio, who crumbles onto the floor before Rock could pull the trigger. In a blind rage, almost frothing at the mouth, Rock turns his attention to Luca and shoves the barrel of the HC-380 to right side of Luca's head, the latter still laughing. He pulls the trigger.

*Bang*

The bullet passes cleanly through Luca's head, sending brain matter out the exit wound. Blood and tissue stream down both sides of Luca's head but he still keeps laughing. Shuddering, his eyes twitching and his body shaking, Rock takes a step back, only to have a chain wrap around his right forearm. Rock turns left and attempts to see what's behind him, only for a second chain to wrap around his outstretched left forearm. His back to the source of the chains, Rock attempts to maneuver around the chains, successful turning around, his arms now choking his neck as they wrap around it.

Before his eyes, Sudhir, dressed in a Roanapur police department outfit, stands motionlessly, a thick ring piercing through his neck like an earring pierced sideways. The ring attaches to the chain binding Rock's right arm. To the right of Sudhir, wearing an identical ring attached to the chain that binds Rock's left arm, Trung Thanh Hoàng stands just as still, wearing a dark grey sweater and sky blue boxers.

Suddenly, the two start walking backwards as the rear wall extends to eternity, each step dragging and choking Rock. Struggling, Rock grasps for the chains with his fingers. He secures Sudhir's chain easily, and then struggles to secure Trung's chain. After being dragged and choked for several meters, Rock finally grasps onto Trung's chain. Rock then plants his feet and pulls with all his might, tearing the rings out of both men's necks. Blood spills on the cold porcelain floor as both men fall face first to their deaths. Luca's laughter stops.

Twisting around, letting the chains slide off his arms, Rock sees Phúc Cao, the plumber that Rock shot in Đà Lạt, seated in the chair, dressed in Rock's salaryman attire. His head is hunched over. Approaching Mr. Cao, Rock lifts his head up, only to find that his forehead has a hole with brain matter poking out. Pushing the man's lifeless head back, the head now resting on the back of the chair, Rock clenches his fingers into a claw like state, his eyes twitching and his body shivering.

"Yo, mate," a voice rings out. Turning around, Rock spots Jaggi, dressed as he was when they first met at Van Thirith's docks, the latter's unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in a non-existent breeze. Yelling fanatically, Rock lunges at Jaggi, driving his fist clean through Jaggi's stomach. Behind him, Tinsul, shirtless, wearing brown cargo shorts, laughs and says "Round three, Rocky boy? Winner takes all!" Rock turns around and flings Jaggi into Tinsul's gut, and then runs toward the pair. He grabs Jaggi's head and crushes it, blood, tissue, and eyeballs erupting like a burst melon. Moving on to Tinsul, Rock jams his thumbs into Tinsul's eyes and bursts them. "I'll KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU ALL! KILL YOU ALL! ALL! ALL!" Rock yells, frantic, psychotic, deranged. Yukio Washimine climbs back onto her feet, smiling, the katana dangling through her blood red neck.

Twitching and curling his fingers, Rock lunges his arms at Yukio's neck and strangles her. Yukio continues to smile as Rock's hands crush her neck and dig in so deep that his index fingers cut deeply on the blade of the katana. A massive surge of pain swarms Rock as his index fingers bleed profusely. He drops Yukio's lifeless, smiling corpse, and turns around.

Rock fidgets in horror as Revy, dressed in her usual black tank top and corduroy shorts attire, wearing combat boats and a large necklace of severed human heads, her tongue elongated and dangling out of her mouth, runs toward Rock with a trishula in her arms. His eyes widening and his mouth agape in terror, he watches as Revy plants her left foot forward, her right foot back, and drives the three-pronged curved spear into his forehead, the prongs penetrating perfectly horizontally and symmetrically in respect to his forehead. He arcs his torso backwards. Suddenly, Rock's pain completely subsides. Smiling gently, one arm suddenly grows from each of Revy's armpits as she slowly hovers to Rock, the latter's eyes twitching in horror. His eyes still twitching, blood trailing down his nose, his eyes, his lips, he suddenly feels a sense of peace as Revy new pair of hands caress and gently hold onto Rock's cheeks, and so, eyes still twitching, he smiles. She plants her right foot forward and lunges forward into a tight embrace, locking her lips to Rock's, sucking the blood off Rock's lips.

As Revy sucks the blood off Rock's face, Rock closes his eyes, a content, almost blissful calm engulfing him. He leans backward, resting on what feels like a soft bed. Rock stretches his arms out, his hands arcing themselves in such a way as to let the blood from his index fingers accumulate in the palms of his hands. A familiar pine scent fills his nostrils as he feels a hand caressing his scarred, bleeding chest, slowly trekking down to his waistline. In bliss, Rock widens his smile and takes comfort in the peace that swarms him.

He opens his eyes and his smile turns into a blank stare, which grows slowly and slowly into shuddering fear and disgust, as a Japanese man with long black hair, dressed in a lab coat and grey slacks, wearing an ID card on the left side of his lab coat. The Japanese man has large brown eyes, a slightly pointy chin, and a small nose. He is clean shaven and wearing his hair into a thin ponytail. The two are inside what appears to be a young boy's bedroom, the walls painted sky blue and patterned with posters of characters from _Fist of the North Star_. To the right of a door in the opposite wall, a large bookcase stands watch. On the ceiling, right above the bed, is a large poster of Kenshiro dressed in his blue pants and vest attire, portrayed in a fighting pose.

The Japanese man grab's Rock's crotch with his left hand, as Rock, his mouth agape, shudders in pain, his hands shaking. He meekly mutters "Yamate." The man's ID card gleams, its wording illegible. The Japanese man cradles Rock's testicle in his hands. The door creeks open. A Japanese woman wearing a grayish-green robe, sporting short-ish bowl shaped black hair that covers her ears, takes one foot inside the room and blankly stares. "Yamate," Rock mutters, staring at the woman. She simply turns around and leaves. Pushing against the man in the in the lab coat, Rock screams "YAMATE! (STOP IT)"

The bowl-haired woman, her hands folded together, she stands in the middle of the bedroom, while Rock stares at her from the doorway, in a schoolboy attire. She speaks "It's time for school Rokuro." "I know," Rock replies. She reaches toward Rock's bed and speaks "Don't forget your rucksack." In her hand, is a clothes hanger with the corpse of the lab coat wearing man hanging from it. Lifting the clothes hanger off the bed, corpse still hanging, she gestures Rock to turn around. The woman then drapes the corpse around Rock's back, the arms wrapped around Rock's shoulders, and says "Go. Before you are late." "Okay," Rock replies, walking out of the doorway.

"Tomiko," Rock speaks, sitting across a long-black haired Japanese woman in a white undershirt, a thin black cotton jacket, and a grey silk skirt. A ring glistens around her left ring finger. Between them is a lowered coffee table with grey porcelain trays of grey pastries. The walls are blank and sterile. The ceiling, also a snow barren white. Everything around them, linear planes of white, so monotonous that the edges of the wall seem to melt inside, as if they live in a sterile white bubble.

"Tomiko," Rock mutters, biting into a pale croissant. Grey flakes pepper his salaryman black pants. A low, sterile hum sounds inside the room. Faintly heard, is the sound of distant throbbing against something solid. Tomiko smiles, her jacket now a lab coat. The ID card around her neck flashing. 'Kosuke Okajima.' A beating sound against the wall. "Rock! Rock!" Revy yells, as if held in a separate cell just like the one Rock is currently in.

"Tomiko," Rock mutters again, as Kosuke Okajima crawls on top of the table, slithering to Rokuro. "Tomiko," Rock mutters again, following backwards, crawling backwards, his lips quivering, his eyes twitching, his lips creasing into a terrified smile. Kosuke crawls over the table, knocking the pastries over, sending the porcelain shattering against the white flooring, the shards almost invisible against the background.

"Yamate," Rock mutters, his back pressed against the sterile wall. He curls into a fetal position as three clones of Kosuke slowly close in. "Yamate," Rock repeats, the pounding intensifying. Three become six, six become twelve, the Kosuke clones increase, all smiling softly. One clone reaches toward Rock, his hand outstretched. Looking to the sterile white ground, Rock yells "YAMATE! STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" A hand grabs his shoulders, and his screams reach an ear-shattering screech.

"Goddamn this fucking day, fucking piece of shit television can't give a decent reception!" Revy yells, kicking the wooden drawer under the TV of their bedroom. His eyes stirring, Rock rubs his forehead, finding fresh taping over his already taped chest. Wearing nothing but black boxers, Rock rubs his chin, noting the harsh scruff along his jawline. He climbs off the bed as Revy immediately jerks her head to Rock, her eyes in shock. She sighs in relief and says "I, I thought you were going to check out on me for a second, the fucking seats are caked in blood."

Rock nods and says "Yeah, I see. Okay…okay." "Okay what? You okay man?" Revy asks, her eyes tracking Rock's every step. Without looking, he starts rifling through one of their bedroom cabinets, saying "I'm fine, I mean, I think I'm no longer bleeding. That…the police officer was from Đà Lạt, 'Senior Colonel Hiếu Văn Phạm sends his regards'. He got the last laugh in the end." "Motherfucker…fucking piece of shit," Revy mutters. "And Dutch beat me half to death for shooting him!" Rock exclaims, laughing at the 'irony'. Revy says "You know why he did that…I mean, that was pretty fucking stupid of you. Dutch was going for just facial damage, I saw what he was doing. What the fuck you looking for anyway?"

"It's here somewhere…where…there we go…I was just trying to get the last laugh Revy. It was just a joke," Rock replies, pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels from the drawer. He quickly unscrews the cap and takes a heavy gulp, sighing. "Dutch, the General, Colonel, whatever he is, Fabiola, Chang, Balalaika, I mean, I keep trying to steal the win, like bases are loaded in a tie game and I got a sacrifice fly in the works but, in the end, I mean, there is this," he takes a second gulp of whiskey "this irony here in like…okay Revy."

"Rock what the fuck?" Revy asks, concerned, her arms crossed and her eyes glaring at Rock. Rock smiles and shakes his head and says "There is this, um…Greek myth about this guy who pulled a trick on the gods and they fell for it, some hard to pronounce name, Eribus? Sestipus? Anyway, he, a mere mortal, he pulled this amazing trick on the gods, he cheated death basically. He pulled the best joke in the history of mankind from ancient times to today. He tricked the gods. And in the end, they chained his leg to a giant boulder and forced him to pull that boulder up an impossibly high valley that whenever, ever, he gets just so close to pushing the boulder over the edge, gravity pulls that boulder, and the Greek guy, all the way back down and he does it all over and over and over and over and over, and over again. And to this day, he is still pushing that boulder up the ledge because that's all he can do and, Revy, well, that…that is the joke. The real joke, the real trick, I mean, I'm just a street magician playing 'pick a card' compared to that level of trickery."

Revy simply stares at him, trying to determine if she needs to force feed him sedatives this time. Rock continues, frantically laughing and saying "I mean, I thought I was clever but if that Greek guy couldn't do that then I mean what point is there? I mean, Revy, you know what trick I mean? You know? Life? The biggest trick of them all? I mean, oh Buddha how could someone do that to a little boy, I mean, oh fuck. I mean, was it enough for you to destroy my life, you had to go to my older brother and make me tell the people at school because mom wasn't doing shit? And then, oh, wow, if he ever taught me something it's that you never get the last laugh because it's never there, there's always someone that one-ups you like, I mean, if that wasn't enough, you had to hang yourself in my bedroom just to make sure I'm the first one to see you cause you had to get the last laugh. Don't you get it Revy? He always gets the last laugh!"

He drops the bottle of whiskey on the floor and sinks against the cabinet, his hands in his face, sobbing hysterically, laughing, his hands shaking. Looking up to Revy, Rock laughs and says "Cavalcanti thought he had a prime specimen for his little tricks but you know what? Oh fuck, I did one-up someone, holy shit, I did. Oh this is so good, the guy that spent his life getting the last laugh got one-upped by the one chasing that last laugh all this time! I mean…he tried to break something that was already broken! That ain't on the level of the Greek guy but, oh Revy, it comes close."

Pausing to laugh at life, he looks up and comes eye-to-eye with a stunned, disgusted Revy, who found herself in the awkward position of being given a ton of heavy baggage and nowhere to go. "What the fuck Rock…" is all she could muster out, as Rock ignores her and continues to laugh.

Reaching for the spilling bottle of whiskey, Rock pulls it up and takes a deep gulp. Sweating, his eyes bloodshot, Rock looks up to Revy, manic, crazed, broken. "It comes close Revy," he ultimately replies.

"Oh, it comes close."


End file.
